Vivere Est Vincere
by luckywood
Summary: How laughable, to be reborn a muggle in a world of magic, unknowing until it was too late. Now, muggle society lay in ruins; a wizarding golden age has begun. Once again reborn, she couldn't wait to burn it all down. SI/OC
1. Chapter 1

She hated the rain, it only reminded her of things she'd rather forget.

Large, heavy drops bounced off her bedroom window, obscuring the view of the street below, the sky a dull gray.

Her small room was dim, the overcast sky blocking the sun. It was cramped, a rickety bed shoved into the corner and a desk and single chair pushed into the wall by the window, a grimy mirror screwed into the wall above.

She turned from the window and sat upon the rough, wooden chair. It was stiff and uncomfortable and the rough wood dug under her fingernails as her small hands gripped the seat, teeth grit hard.

And there, there lay the source of her ire, confirmation of what she already knew but hard to take all the same.

 **Official Numbers In! 99.99% of Muggles Dead!**

 _A team of international researches today published a report detailing the estimated drop in Muggle population worldwide, following the release of what has become known as the_ _'Muggle Killer' by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The report confirms speculation that the Muggle population has been wiped out, with researches from across the world, from China to Canada, working together to locate any potential survivors._

 _The_ _'Muggle Killer', released approximately a year before the fall of You-Know-Who, has succeeded in spreading across the globe; many are now calling You-Know-Who the most successful Dark Lord in living memory._

 _The Minister for Magic, Lucius Malfoy, had this to say when asked for his thoughts on the report._

" _It is important for our society to come together in these trying times. I believe we all knew what the results of this report would be. The Dark Lord may be vanquished, but the scars he has left upon the world shall take many years to fade. I am currently working with a special team to ensure the survival of what few muggles remain; it is the least I can do after my own role, unwilling though it may have been._

 _We must strive to move past this dark time and into a brighter future, to bring the nation together and heal the wounds in our society._ _"_

 _Minister Malfoy_ _…_

She cast the newspaper to the ground, sheets of paper scattering across the wooden floor.

Disgusting. All of it, this entire society was a festering heap. She'd been re-building a life, she had a family, a girlfriend and a successful job; she was _happy._

And now it was all gone, torn away from her by these _fucking filthy wizards._ All her hard work, destroyed. And the worst part? She couldn't even bring herself to despise Voldemort for it; all her hate was focused on the failure that was everyone else. Not one person was capable of stopping this genocide.

She bit her lip so hard a bead of blood welled up, the sharp pain only serving to heighten her anger.

Wiping away some of the grime upon the mirror with her ragged sleeve, she revealed her new face to her eyes.

She was small, only five years old. Her hair was black, hanging down over her left shoulder and her face had a sharp, aristocratic look to it. Noble, imperious, everything she currently wasn't, holed up in this dingy orphanage.

But it was her eyes that held her attention; a murky orange, they reminded her of fire, of the flickering flames that…

Shaking off the memories once again, she glared at her reflection. Once again, she'd rejected death, only to awaken as one of _them._ Like a new sense that she was only now aware of, her power coursed through her body, infinite in potential. Was this what it would feel like if a blind man saw the world for the first time? It felt like it, to her, as though her previous lives were spent wandering in the darkness and now she could see the light, could sense the… bland noise that surrounded the other children.

All she could do was laugh, harsh and bitter. She'd known, it had been obvious what had happened to the world, but it hadn't hit her until now, until she realised that an entire civilisation lie shattered and she was now part of the one that did the breaking.

Raising her fist, she readied herself to once again smash the mirror, an almost habitual habit at this point, but stopped, sighing. The workers would only become pissed if she broke the mirror again. God, it only took a flick to fix, but you'd think she was pulling their teeth out.

Mudblood was practically a common term these days

* * *

Magic. Such an unfathomable concept, the idea that a human can change the world with nothing but their will.

And yet, with the power flowing through her body and her reincarnations, she wouldn't deny it.

She would master it.

But that would take time. Tom Riddle could use his powers in various ways by the time he was eleven, no doubt he spent every waking moment training it to respond to his will; she would do the same.

How to describe it? It wasn't a well she could draw a limited amount of power from - their was no number she could place upon her magic - instead it was more like… Music. An orchestra, with herself as the maestro. Or a painting, with herself the painter. There was no limit upon what she could do, with the will and the training.

She couldn't get a wand until she was eleven, but she _would_ master her power, bend it to her will. Wandless magic was possible and if she ever wanted to reach the heights she wanted then she would have to be _more_ than an ordinary muggleborn.

It was just… Difficult. She sat at the desk, leering at the small ball of paper she'd placed upon it.

She wanted it on fire, but that wasn't working so far. She could feel her power working, trying to respond to her commands, but it was sluggish, confused as it roiled in her body and mind.

" _Incendio_ _"_ she growled. The paper twitched and a tiny puff of smoke appeared as a corner singed, but that was it. Her magic broke apart, unravelled as though a tapestry had been pulled apart. She had found that magic was easier when she had spoke or used gestures, it gave her magic slightly more direction than she was currently capable of giving with just her mind.

She slumped, panting for breath. It felt like she'd just tried to move the ocean to fill a bucket, not a pleasant experience.

Well, at least she had plenty of time. If only she had a book, explaining the theory… But that would take money and she had no idea how to get that. Right now, she was going purely by instinct.

She knew that she _could_ do this. She'd had some… Mishaps, with accidental magic; she'd felt it come alive, responding to her feelings in a clear, unconfused manner. But replicating that was beyond her. For now.

She wanted to be strong, no matter the cost.

" _Incendio!"_

She hissed as she felt burning at the tip of her finger, before slumping as the mental strain became too much, the spell collapsing.

Their would be no flames erupting from her fingers, at least. She may one day be able to conjure a flame, but that didn't stop the flame from burning her.

* * *

London was dead. Running through the city, its desolation was never more apparent. The streets were empty and quiet; it was almost eerie viewing the once bustling streets emptied.

Nature was spreading, weeds overgrowing the pavements, swaying in the breeze. The smell of corpses had finally been cleared out, thankfully, but it had taken a long time for the air to be clear again. No doubt there were still some that had been missed, rotting away in forgotten apartments and dark alleys.

She hated it, she hated this city, she hated this quiet, she hated the signs of nature overgrowing a once incredible civilisation.

They had been growing, moving faster and faster towards a technological era. The Internet wasn't yet off the ground but it had been coming. Science had been advancing, technology improving.

But now it was all gone, nothing but rubble and slowly crumbling infrastructure remaining.

And most of all, she hated how unsafe the world now was.

Running down the street, little legs carrying her as fast as they could, she skidded around a corner, narrowly avoiding a jet of red light that shot through the rain, drops blown outward by the force of its passing.

"Hahaha, that's right. Run run run, street rat, hahaha!" came the hacking voice of the scumbag chasing her.

She paid it no mind, dashing towards her target, not far from her now. This fool would soon learn the price of his arrogance.

Dashing around another corner, she saw her destination. A police station, one where the last piece of news she had heard of it was of a shooting against a panicked public, storming the building in desperation.

Crashing through the front doors, she looked around frantically. The entrance room was… ordinary, looking as though it was but a holiday for the workers, posters pinned to the wall, though they were now a little grimy.

The building was dim, with electricity shut-off, but she could see clearly enough, including the piles of ash that were once bodies.

She kept running, ignoring the ash piles scattered around the building, eyes flickering around the building until she found what she was looking for.

In a room resembling an office at the end of a hallway, she found a gun, hiding half-buried within an ash pile at the foot of a chair behind a desk.

No doubt the blind wizards hadn't so much glanced at the obvious weapon, not recognizing it for what it was. They were too stupid, too _arrogant_ to ever learn about muggle weapons.

The majority, anyway.

It was a black pistol, she didn't know the type, but a quick check confirmed the presence of bullets within. The metal felt cool and reassuring beneath the still damp palm of her hand. For too long she'd been defenceless in a dangerous world, it was nice to have a little protection.

With this, she would put this lowlife in his place.

The room was dark, there was no window letting light into the room, what light existed came from the hallway. She ducked behind the door, waiting, the only sound that of the dripping from her clothes and hair.

She was just a street rat, after all. Nothing to be afraid of, I mean he had a big scary wand, what did she have…

"Oh, is the chase over? Hahaha, come out, come out…" His voice was low, taunting as faint footsteps slowly crept closer.

Well, she might as well try to get him to lower his guard further. Putting on her most innocent voice, she called out. "Wh- why are you chasing me? What did I do?"

He footsteps stopped, then a harsh laugh barked out from down the hallway. "Who cares what you did, mudblood? In fact, you should be thanking me for teaching you your rightful place."

Rightful place?! Why this bottom-of-the-barrel scumbag!

"You'd know a lot about being in your rightful place, wouldn't you, Mr low-achiever? I bet you dropped out of school, like some filthy _mudblood._ _"_ Unlike earlier, her voice was now cool and taunting, bellying a maturity that was previously hidden.

A snarl ripped its way out his throat. "You little bitch, even the fucking street rats are stuck up little cunts! You think you're better than me! I'll show you, and that prissy bitch Rosmerta!"

A jet of white light shot through the door, hitting the wall opposite with a resounding crack and creating a crater, flecks of plaster exploding into the air as dust filled the room.

"Oh? What's wrong? Get turned down by a girl? Were you too far… beneath her? Could she not stand the sight of failure on her doorstep?" She tightened her grip on the gun, readying her finger on the trigger. This man was clearly unstable, it wouldn't be long now…

Now was a time for calm, where a single mistake could cost her life.

Was it wrong that she found this exciting?

He let out a ragged shout and another jet of light collided with the wall. "You! And her! I'll show you! This is your own fault, don't blame me! I bet you work for Rosmerta, don't you!? You deserve this, being born a mudblood!"

He descended into violent, unstable rants. She wasn't certain whether he was cursing herself, Rosmerta, or himself; excuses riddled his rants, blaming herself and this Rosmerta for his actions, unable to bear the thought that he was at fault.

It was close now, his footsteps were getting closer and closer…

Languidly, he walked into the room, wand held loosely at his right side. His hair was a scraggly grey, his beard overgrown and his clothes ragged. How a wizard could have ragged clothes was a mystery in itself; she crossed off any talent with transfiguration.

Without hesitation, she aimed the gun, still hidden out of sight behind the door, and pulled the trigger, a bullet slamming into his right arm as the bang reverberated off the walls, much louder than she expected. The recoil of the gun almost caused her to lose her grip, sweaty with nerves, but she managed.

With a yell, he dropped his wand, left hand coming around and grabbing the bleeding wound as he looked around frantically, locking onto her as she stepped out, filled with rage and humiliation. She liked that, the sudden powerlessness in his eyes as he snarled at her.

"You!" he shouted, stumbling towards her. Another bullet had him stumbling backwards onto his back, foot leaking blood as he cried.

"Me" she stated, standing over the now downed scumbag. "What's wrong? Weren't you going to show me my 'rightful place'"

His face was paling, eyes fixed on the point of the gun, now pointed between his eyes. "You- you don't wanna do that. I- I have friends, they'll come for you, they'll know you did this!"

How laughable, that someone of this calibre would have any friends to care about him. Clearly, her thoughts must have shown on his face, because he frantically switched track

"Y-you wouldn't do this, I'll die you know? You'll be a murderer! There's no way a kid like you will kill me!" His face hardened, gaining a more confident look as he picked up steam. "Th-that's right. J-just give me the weapon. We'll forget this whole thing. I was only messing around, I wouldn't actually hurt yo-"

The cold barrel of the gun was pressed against his forehead, shutting him up. "How disgraceful. So quick to reveal yourself as the coward you are, such a fool. Tell me, why shouldn't I kill you right now? Give me a reason."

He was beginning to sweat, blood was continuing to pour out of his wounds and all the while he was getting more agitated, desperate. Oh, how she enjoyed this. For a full grown wizard to be beaten by a child wielding a muggle weapon. The fear on his face was… Delicious.

"I- I can give you money, please! I'll give you anything, tell you anything!"

Ah, such desperation. A smile curved onto her face, it was just too amusing. Her fiery eyes almost seemed to glow in the low-light of the room.

"If you want to live, you'll answer my every question, won't you?"

He hesitantly nodded his head, eyes crossed on the gun barrel.

"Excellent. Well then, first of all…"

She learned quite a lot from him, such as where the most dangerous places within London were. He obviously didn't know much, being the waste that he was, but he knew general things, like the value of galleons when compared to muggle money.

She could hardly ask others about things like that, it was rather suspicious, but he wasn't going to live for much longer anyway.

"Ash and Leprechaun hair, really? What an… interesting combination. If I'm not mistaken, Ollivander doesn't use such wand cores. I guess your wand is substandard? How fitting."

The impotent rage in his eyes only made her grin wider.

"Well, as interesting as this little chat has been, I believe its time for our acquaintance to come to an end. Such a pity, you were a… fascinating conversation partner." The gun was pressed harder against his forehead, her finger tightening on the trigger.

"W-wait! You said you'd let me go!" The mans eyes were flickering around the room, seeking an escape, lingering on the wand lying a distance away.

"I don't believe I did. If it makes you feel any better, just know that this wasn't _your_ fault, of course. It was just your misfortune for being born a _wizard_ _"_ she mocked. She felt a certain delight in turning his words back upon him.

His eyes widened before he made a move for his wand, but it was too late; with a resounding bang, he slumped to the floor, crimson blood pooling beneath his head, eyes glassy.

Now that that was dealt with, she could finish off what she came here for. Searching the rest of the building, she found other guns and bullets. Most she left untouched, though she replaced her pistol with one which looked cleaner, having rested in a glass case, as well as grabbed a number of cartridges for the gun.

She was humming a little ditty to herself as she explored, satisfied with how the day went. It wasn't much, but putting down a rabid wizard made her feel… Satisfied. It calmed the rage within her, just a little.

Oh, she'd almost forgotten in all the excitement. Walking back to the corpse, she searched it for any useful items. There was a small bag of galleons - about 5 with some sickles, knuts and others she couldn't recognise - but that was it. The wand lying nearby, however, that was a prize.

It was rough looking - she could almost mistake it for a branch - as well as short, only 7 inches long, a tiny wand for a tiny wizard. She could faintly sense the magical nature of it, however. No branch would feel like that.

The light brown wand seemed to stutter feebly as she picked it up, sparks jittering from the tip. It felt coarse and brittle beneath her hand. She could feel her magic melding with it, but with a deep thrum, the wand jerked weakly, almost jumping from her grip. It was… Rejecting her, pushing power through the wand felt like trying to thread a very tiny needle.

She pointed the wand at the body. _"Incendio"_ she said.

The spell failed, nothing but a faint trail of smoke rising from his hair. Well, that was disappointing - and tiring - but hardly unexpected. She could experiment later.

Exiting the building, she took a cautious walk back to the orphanage. She may have a gun now, but it wouldn't do to get cocky, that would only get her killed. Others could have been attracted by the sound of gunshots, though that was unlikely. Bangs and other such noises weren't exactly uncommon and as she had just learned, this wasn't a particularly active area for criminals. It was why he - she never got his name, did she? - had been there, hiding from others. He'd seen her and just couldn't resist, the filth.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a shiny golden galleon. It was cold and heavy, reflecting her image in its embossed surface. £50 this was worth and she now had five of them, counting the other coins she had, that was around £300. He must have had his entire life savings on him.

It brought to mind something she had been thinking about for a while now. She needed money if she was ever going to achieve her goals, a lot of it.

She could hardly conquer the world a pauper, could she?


	2. Chapter 2

Diagon Alley, such a fascinating place. A place where she could practically taste the magic in the air. Even now, with the muggles gone, the entrance was still through the Leaky Cauldron; it was tradition after all.

The pub looked far cleaner than she had expected and had a much lighter feel. In a booth was a family, the parents smiling as the children chased after a shimmering bubble; in others were friends chatting and laughing, perusing the news and playing exploding snap, the scent of burning cards wafting through the air.

Behind the bar, smiling and joking with a customer was Tom, she presumed, looking much younger than she expected, though what wizard didn't with Malfoy selling the Potion of Youth.

She walked past them, unnoticed by the patrons, just another child in the throng. Her clothes were the usual fair, black trousers and jumper, a rather common colour in these times, with Hogwarts students buying their uniforms. Not that she would be, she was far too young, but it helped the eyes of others glide over her.

Looking around, she ensured that no-one was watching her before ducking into the side of the bar, where the entrance to the alley was. Taking out the ash wand, she tapped the stones in pattern, before the magic responded.

The brick wall fell away, folding outward upon itself from where her wand touched it last and revealing the alley.

Magic could be fantastic, sometimes. To her muggle sensibilities, what just happened had caused a dozen alarms to go off, all blearing about how impossible what she just witnessed should be. The wall didn't even appear to have thickness, such power magic held.

Stepping through the hole, she found herself in Diagon Alley, the streets bustling with people, from students buying supplies to adults wandering in and out of stores. On one street corner stood a witch, laughing as dancing sparks flew out of the reach of children; overhead people on brooms flew, centred around the broom shop, trying out various broomsticks.

It was lively and cheerful, so very different to the abandoned streets of London, the broken down houses and rusty cars. Even the air felt refreshing, a faint scent of flowers carried by the breeze.

It was so happy.

And so very, very fake, as though the destruction this market lay at the centre of didn't exist, an isolated shelter in the midst of a storm. It sickened her, nothing more than a fresh layer of paint that was hiding the rot beneath.

Yes, she would feel no guilt for this.

Moving amongst the crowd, she had a slight, easy going smile on her face, just like all the other children. But her eyes were sharp and probing, picking for targets in the crowd.

She spent a while just exploring, it was her first time, after all. From sweet shops to book stores, she had a look in all of them, her sharp face faintly reflected in the glass displays. Eventually, she found a mark.

There, a teenager, no older than fourteen, walking with his coin pouch strapped to his side as he talked to the girl next to him, blue eyes looking at her with an obvious desire. He was oblivious to his surroundings; an easy target.

" _Incendio_ " she whispered, focusing her will, dominating her power with a strength she hadn't managed before.

The pouch let out a slight hit of smoke as the bottom began to turn black, carried away unnoticed by the breeze, the navy blue silk darkening.

She was starting to feel faint, a pounding in her head as her magic struggled against her control, blind and wild, but she ignored it, gritting her teeth as she stared at the pouch.

"Shit" the boy muttered, as his pouch split open, coins of all shaped and sizes spilling on the ground, clanging and clinking. His hands reached for the coins reflexively, but he was too late.

Now came the more challenging part.

Her next effort left her on her knees, gasping and sweating as she pulled, hands slapping the ground. The coins, rolling on the ground, began to wobble, before rolling towards her, through the legs of the crowd that was just watching the boy hastily pick up his coins with amusement. She quickly swiped up all the coins - shining gold and silver - hidden by the tall legs of others.

And really, who would suspect her? She was but a small child, with no wand or training, capable of only accidental magic.

Such arrogance.

Picking herself up, she stumbled away, breathing deeply. That was… Far more exhausting than she had hoped. It was very slightly easier than when she first started training, but only slightly. It would be a long road to controlling her magic.

Did the Dark Lord experience the same, trying day after day for mastery over his power? Striving for more, an endless hunger pushing him forward? Even he hadn't had much power as a child, not really. He could cause pain, compel truth from muggles, levitate items etc. But against even the most mediocre wizard with a wand, he would have been blown away.

But it was the base, the instinctive knowledge of magic that she was painfully grasping, hoping it would take her a step above most wizards, as it had the Dark Lord.

Checking the money, she saw that she had managed to… re-appropriate, a couple galleons and a few other coins, sickles and knuts etc. Galleons were approximately £50, so she'd made at least £100. It wouldn't be enough, most days she doubted she would be so lucky, and it was a dangerous job. She'd need to find something else eventually, but for now this would do.

Naturally, this would hardly be the extent of the challenges she would have to go through to obtain more, but that was why she chose today to begin, when the students started buying their shopping. All those careless children, weighed down by heavy coin purses; she was doing them a favour, relieving them of their burden.

If she happened to improve her skills, well, that was - how do you say- killing two birds with one stone.

The ice-cream she bought with her new wealth had never tasted so sweet.

* * *

The common room of her orphanage was, like the rest of the place, run down. It smelled of mold and rot and neglect, the furniture was covered in dust and the fire was barely a flicker, as though none of them were worth a few simple spells to clean and warm the place.

The other children were pitiful things, filled with anger and cruelty. They fought over the crudest of things, the orphanage workers doing their best to ignore everything they saw. Unless you were dying, you were on your own, a lesson the other children had quickly taken to.

So, unless they wanted to see just how close they could go to that fine line, between injury and potential death, they avoided her like the plague. One time, a child had attempted to steal something from her room.

Once.

Now they avoided her, the limping brat an ever present reminder of the fate that awaited should they try to wrong her.

Which is why she was mildly surprised when she found a child approaching her, looking up from the newspaper she filched earlier that day.

"Excuse me" came a timid voice. Morgan looked over the child, a small Asian girl that looked about her own age, wearing the tattered clothes they all wore, fidgeting nervously as she quailed under Morgan's gaze. Her hair was roughly cut into a bob-cut and her skin showed faint signs of bruises.

"Yes?" She raised an eyebrow, curious.

The girl flinched, before straightening up a little. "Can you read that?" she asked, eyeing the newspaper.

Could she… "Of course, I would hardly be reading it if I couldn't now, would I?"

The girls face brightened at that, but her eyes were still hesitant and timid, flickering from the floor to herself and back again.

"Um… C-could you teach me? Please?" She shrunk in on herself as Morgans eyes pierced her.

Teach her? Well… "What's your name?"

"S-Su, Su Li" she mumbled, peeking up at her hesitantly. She relaxed a little when she didn't see any hostility on her face.

Su Li? That sounded familiar, wasn't that a girl who was only briefly mentioned? Morgan looked at her with new eyes. That meant the girl was a Hogwarts student, or rather, had the potential to be one. She would never be chosen if she couldn't even read.

Should she teach her? There was potential there, but it would be a significant time investment and with uncertain results. Su might not even get into Hogwarts, so perhaps it would be better not to waste the time.

But… As she looked Su over - quiet, shy, scared Su, who had probably spent her life lonely and cowering from bullies - she couldn't help feeling respect for the girl. Before Su laid the Wheel of Fortune, just waiting to be spun, for good or ill. To her, she could have left this conversation much worse off than she entered it, she had no illusions that the other children weren't turning her into a demon behind her back.

That had been her goal, after all.

Yet she'd braved it, she'd looked at herself and decided she wanted to be more than she was, spun the Wheel and hoped it came up in her favour. It seemed a small thing, just asking her something like that, yet it rose the girl above everyone she had yet met in this new life.

Morgan leaned forward, cupping Su's chin with her hand. "And lets say I give you the teaching you desire. What shall I be given in return?"

Su was stumped for a second, staring bafflingly as she tried to think of something, before she blurted out "Anything!"

An amused smile appeared on Morgans face. "Very well then, I accept. I'll teach you, but from now on, I expect you to work hard; their will be no slacking off, is that clear?"

Su nodded frantically, hope shining in her eyes. It was a nice look, the light of hope within her previous dull eyes.

Maybe Morgan still had a soft spot in her after all. Somewhere.

Grabbing Su by her shoulder, she pulled her upstairs and into her own small room.

"Well then, why don't you tell me what you already know…"

As it turned out, not as much as she hoped, but more than she expected. She knew some of the alphabet, some basic counting and that was about it.

What a pitiful world where a child doesn't know the A.B.C.

She couldn't wait to burn it down.

No matter, people always learn faster under personal tutoring; with her tutelage, she would soon be well ahead of her peers.

And Morgan would have years to indoctrinate the girl into her own way of thinking, show her the flaws within society.

It was never too early to start gathering followers.

* * *

One of her main problems in this new life was her lack of access to magic books. The entire system was designed to disadvantage people like her. She was unable to buy a book without an adult, at least until she became a student. She hadn't the money for a tutor as pure - and even halfbloods - did, so that option was out.

Then there was the disdain, the condescending looks some gave her when they saw her tatty clothes. She may have as well been standing there holding a sign proclaiming her blood status.

But that was no matter. If they would not give her what she wanted, then she would have to take it. She would climb to the top of this cesspit they call a country, built upon the bones of her civilisation. And then…

Then they would know pain.

For now, however, she would have to make do with what she had. Some small magical ability and one 'follower.' Su was coming along fine after a year of teaching, with particular focus on muggle history, the good and the bad. Su didn't yet understand why she was being taught those things, but she would, in time.

Any student of hers would be fully capable of critical thinking. She wouldn't have her brainwashed by magical media, no, she would teach her to look out for the bad, hidden by the good, to see beneath the painted mask magical society liked to wear.

It was the middle of the day, and the orphanage was sweltering in the summer heat. The children had all ran outside, fleeing from the stifling heat, along with the workers.

This was an opportunity that she wouldn't pass up.

Within the orphanage was a few students, young and none went to Hogwarts, but they had what she wanted, magical texts.

The room she was standing outside belonged to a student that had just finished his first year at some no-name school. He would survive the loss of a previous years book.

The door was locked, a rusty iron handle and lock sealing the room. Placing her hand on the cold metal, she focused again.

" _Alohomora_ " she muttered. This was a much more difficult spell than merely moving coins, something she could do with greater ease now that she had practised it a lot. Her magic was… Gaining more sentience? She didn't know how to put it, her magic wasn't a separate entity she felt, rather it was more like her subconscious self. If she didn't know how to do something, then her magic wouldn't, since her magic was her.

And she was stumbling in the dark, figuring things out by pure instinct; therefore her magic was the same.

The lock started rattling, overly noisy in the quiet hallway. Sweat beaded on her forehead as the strain increased, as though she were trying to use a battering ram to pick a lock, her control was still so little.

With a thunk, the door unlocked, swinging open slightly. She released the spell, breathing out with the loss of the mental strain. Jesus, but that was tiring. If she had a wand that actually worked for her she might have been able to do more, but all she had was the treacherous ash wand that was just as liable to blow her up than perform the spell.

Entering the room, Morgan quickly found what she was looking for, a thick book entitled The Standard Book Of Spells: Grade 1. It only covered a few spells, but it was still a heavy tome, and this was for 11 year olds.

Once she got older, entire books would be dedicated to single spells, multiple even. Magic was a complex subject at best, at worst it was a lot of guesswork.

Taking the book, she left the room. She hadn't yet figured out how to re-lock doors - something this book might help with - so she would merely have to accept the risk of being found out. It was doubtful she ever had a chance of the theft not being discovered, but she doubted she would ever be suspected.

Once back in her room, she ignored Su who was doing her best to silently read through a slim book Morgan had found for her in a nearby untouched library. She sat at her desk and began to read.

She was disappointed. It was evidently clear that despite the large amount of theory in the book, it was still a book for eleven year olds. She wasn't sure what she expected.

And some of it was just laughable. Who doesn't know what fire is, or what causes it?

Still, there were some usable pieces of information. Not much, but enough that she had a fainter idea of what she was working with, as though a candle had been lit in the centre of the universe, practically unnoticeable, but slight nonetheless.

She focused on the spell she was currently most interested in, _incendio_ , the fire-making charm. Funnily enough, there was a note that it would be taught in first year herbology, not charms, which would cover it in second year.

A candle that she had stolen stood upon her desk, half melted from previous training, wax pooling at the base. As usual, Su perked up when her attention was focused on the candle; all children were interested in magic after all.

" _Incendio_ " Morgan spoke, snapping her fingers. With a flash, the tip lit up, a dull orange flame casting shadows across the room, flickering and dancing beneath her gaze while a lavender scent wafted into the air.

The exhaustion was drastically reduced now, after all her hard work.

A wicked grin lit up her face. Finally, she was seeing some real results, moving ever forwards and gaining speed. Soon, soon, just a decade or so and she would be in a position to begin, to break this filthy world over her knee.

And it would be exquisite.


	3. Chapter 3

Ah Christmas. Such a delightful holiday, made more so by the snow now piled along the streets and drifting from the skies in soft, large flakes; a white Christmas, as the muggles used to say. For Morgan, it was bittersweet. There were both good and bad memories for this day.

A cold breeze stung her face as she walked down the street, stomping through the fluffy white, unmarked snow. Beside her, Su looked around excitedly, jumping into large snow piles, making balls to throw around, face flushed and eyes bright. Both of them had warm clothes, scavenged from a nearby muggle clothing store, blunting the edge of the biting chill.

Morgan was glad to see Su could still be so childish, despite the… altercation with her previous bullies. She worried that she may have been affected by such a heavy level of violence, but once the initial reluctance was passed, Su took to it with enthusiasm.

Su, at least, would not be making the same mistakes she had.

She also noticed the fond way in which Su played with the golden necklace around her neck - a Christmas present from Morgan - and the smile she had whenever she glanced at it. It made Morgan rather happy to see her gift appreciated in such way; the necklace spelling out her name had cost quite the pretty penny.

Likewise, Morgan glanced down at the red scarf winding around her neck, the warm material sitting comfortably around her neck. A gift, from Su. It wasn't an expensive thing, but it was nice all the same.

The evening sun was setting, they'd spent the day at a muggle library, now a comfy place for them. They only came back to the orphanage to pick up food and spend the night.

The streets of London weren't the safest at night.

Just as she was thinking that, a scream sounded throughout the clear air, stabbing her ears with its shrillness in the quiet city.

Su stopped, eyes wide as she listened, before she turned to Morgan, eyes pleading.

Of course. Su was still a child. It was only natural for her to want to help someone, she still didn't have the life experiences to understand just how evil the world could be. She understood much more than the average child, but that still wasn't enough yet.

Her hesitation must have shown on her face, for Su stood up straighter, feet stubbornly set in the snow.

"W-we should help" she said, with all the conviction of an ignorant child.

Morgan sighed. "And what would you have me do, Su? Fight an adult sorcerer? They'll reduce me to ash the moment they see me."

She had a gun on her, it would be foolish not to, but all it would take is one missed bullet to destroy her. She had no idea of the sorcerers skill level, a simple summoning charm would disable her, leave her helpless to their powerful wanded magic.

But Su was stubborn. "You helped me. You can help them too." Seeing that Morgan was unmoved, she softened a little, eyes glancing at her feet, the fur rimmed boots embedded in the snow. "You said you would make the world better" she mumbled, downcast.

Morgan grit her teeth so hard she could almost hear the grind of tooth against tooth. She did say that, told Su that one day she would take the world, break it and rebuild something better, happier.

She'd even shown her, taught her how to deal with trash so they never again hurt anyone else and Su had followed along, hesitant but convinced that her bullies deserved it.

It was hard to have those words thrown back at her, the silent accusation of 'Were you lying?' shown in Su's posture. But wasn't she right? How could she dream of ruling the world, of stamping out the trash, of destroying the worthless that watched her world die, if she didn't take risks?

Was this all she was, empty words and boasts, cowering when true danger showed, like all the failures of the wizarding world?

Would she have stood by when Voldemort ravaged the world?

Her hand twitched and slowly, she pulled out the gun in her coat pocket, the black metal cold in the winter chill, shining with the snows reflected light.

"Stay behind me, be quiet and don't let anyone see you. Stay out of sight, behind a building or something. Should anything happen, run. Are we understood?" Her tone made it clear that Su either understood or this ended here, and Su frantically nodded, smile back on her face.

Curse children and their belief in the invincibility of their guardians. And she cursed herself.

As she always did.

She moved with haste now, not the slow, languid walk they had been enjoying previously. A lot of time had been wasted with her hesitance, right now an attacker could be forcing himself upon his victim, or have finished the murder, or any number of terrible things.

She sped down the street in the direction of the scream, coming to a stop at a corner beyond which she heard a mumbled voice, masculine in nature.

Right shoulder to the wall, she peeked around into the dark alley, gun held at the ready.

What she saw took her breath away.

A woman was held up against the wall, restrained with unseen magic as she grimaced, glaring at the wizard pointing a wand at her.

And she was beautiful. Black hair and eyes, a stunning face and body, with clothes that merely accentuated her figure, a short grey skirt and black top that just hinted at cleavage. Morgan couldn't take her eyes off her, the tears streaming down the woman's cheeks not even slightly marring her beauty.

She was entrancing, captivating, a dark allure that promised pleasure and warmth, that would indulge her every desire should she just reach out and take what was so willingly offered. And it had been so long… It took all her will not to charge her down and take her right there. Her breath hitched and a warmth she wasn't even aware she could feel yet spread through her lower half, her breath fogging the air and her eyes lidded in lust.

She was only half aware of the voice of the man, reminding her of oils and cheap aftershave and con-men, a slimy voice that hinted of… undesirable things. His black hair was slicked back, his stomach round and bulging, wearing an expensive ink blue suit. A sickly smell filled the alley, reminding her of overly sweet drinks.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asked, glaring at the woman. "Did you think I would just give you more power, just like that? I bet your running on dregs right now, aren't you?"

The woman glared at him, eyes fierce in hate, as though she could kill him with but a glance. Then, she just seemed to give up, the fire fading from her eyes as the resistance seemed to leak from her, taking her strength with it. She hung there, arms spread against the wall, and sobbed, quiet heaves racking her body.

And suddenly, Morgan could breathe again. The devastating beauty, the longing she'd felt for the woman, it all faded. She was still remarkable, but now she could easily appreciate her figure without such thoughts invading her mind.

"See, things would have been so much simpler had you known that before you started this whole thing. Where would you have gone, anyway? Whored yourself for some scum, dredging around these ruins? Boss gave you and your kind shelter, food, anything, and this is how you repay him?" he said, face impassive. His eyes roved over her body in a way that made Morgan's skin crawl. "Such a shame. You'll be an example, I think, to discourage any others from running. You brought this on yourself. _Crucio_."

The screams were worse than anything she had ever yet heard; she was surprised the unbroken panes of glass around the alley didn't shatter from it.

A flinch at her side, and Su fell onto her backside, eyes wide as she stared at the unfolding scene.

Morgans heart almost stopped in her chest as the wizard suddenly spun, spotting Su at the mouth of the alley. She'd forgotten about Su, too caught up in fantasies and desire.

She stepped into action, pulling the trigger as fast as she could. The gun cracked in her hands, the sound bouncing off the crumbling walls of the alley as the gun jerked, almost deafeningly loud.

A bullet slammed into his bulging stomach and another into his chest, crimson blood spreading down the white shirt beneath his suit jacket. His eyes widened, gasping in pain as the bullets slammed into him. The others went wild, the recoil simply too strong for her to control with her childish arms.

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to take him down, a fact she only had a brief moment to regret before a white jet of light slammed into her, throwing her away from the mouth of the alley, over Su and into the snow, the gun flying from her grasp.

Her chest hurt, her back hurt, her hand hurt, and she could barely breath.

This was going swimmingly.

God, why had she ever agreed to do this?

Oh, right, because she was a fool. Time and two deaths had yet to change that, apparently.

The man stumbled from the alley, coughing blood into his hand. With a flick of his wand, Su was sent flying into the wall; he didn't even spare her a glanced. Instead, his furious grey eyes were fixed upon Morgan, struggling to stand in the snow.

"You… You mudblood…" he wheezed. "Do… Do you know what she is? Prac-practically an animal… Stupid filth…"

Morgan couldn't help herself, she hacked out a laugh at her attacker. "And yet, you look like much more an animal than her. Almost piggish. At least she's attractive, what do you have?" she taunted.

She couldn't help herself, she wasn't one to show fear in the face of death, not anymore. She only had the vague hope that Su would take her advice and run, and bitterness, that she would die so early, with her ambitions unfilled.

It filled her with an unbridled rage, fiery and destructive, yet she was incapable of doing anything other than watch as the wizard limped towards her.

His face was a picture of rage, sneering down at her. " _Crucio_ " he spoke, then, with a twist of his wand and a flash of orange light, her world was pain.

Words were unable to describe it. Knives stabbed her, flames burned her, men raped her, it was pain of the like she had never even conceived of, had never knew was possible. Her bones were ground into dust, her skin flayed, every nerve singing a song of agony as she lost her senses of the world, an eternity of pain all she knew.

Slowly, she could feel her mind losing its grip on sanity, diving into the embrace of madness, a dark hole that she was rapidly speeding towards. She knew her fate should she succumb, but she didn't - couldn't - care about that right now.

She was such a fool.

Then, the pain stopped. She lay there, her senses returning to her slowly. Her throat felt raw and her body throbbed with pain. Twitching her finger, she gasped as pain shocked through her body, spreading and cascading before fading, leaving a sharp ache in its wake..

How pathetic, to be reduced to this state. She should have shot the man the moment she saw him, instead she had been enthralled by the womans beauty, no doubt some magical trick. What use was she if she could barely resist something like that?

Ah, self-loathing, there you are. It had been a while.

Lifting her head slightly, she saw Su, standing and shaking as she held a gun, her eyes wide and scared. It was pointing at the wizard bleeding out on the ground, another two wounds leaking blood across his back. It looked like she'd managed to get his lungs, judging by the wet gurgling and pink froth bubbling around his lips as he gasped for air in the ruby snow.

"E-excellent work, S-Su" she said, picking herself up to the protests of her body. Every movement sent fresh sparks of pain through her body, but with an iron will she pushed through it, standing upon shaky legs.

Never in her wildest dreams had she thought the Cruciatus would be so bad. She couldn't have been under it long, but even that was enough to finish her. In a duel, getting hit by that would be a death sentence.

Her hand clenched in anger and her eyes narrowed as she glared down at the bastard that had caused this, this filthy low-life tossing crucio's at children. She was an adult, luckily, but what if he decided to hit Su with that? Her childish mind would have broken instantly.

He was rabid, feral.

Unworthy of life.

She stumbled over to Su, who was still staring at the wizard with wide eyes. Throwing an arm over her shoulder, she leaned in to her ear, voice low to prevent more throat pain.

"Finish him" she rasped.

That shocked Su out of her daze, her brown eyes coming round to meet Morgans unyielding orange gaze.

She was hesitating, conflicted. It was understandable. She had yet to learn that when it came to scum like this, you couldn't give them another chance. You had to strike and crush them, no forgiveness could be allowed, for they would merely bide their time until they could attack you again.

And this was an excellent opportunity to hammer that home.

She turned Su towards the still shivering woman, suffering the after effects of the cruciatus upon the dirty alley floor. "Tell me Su, if we weren't here, what would have happened to this woman? That's right, she'd be dead and forgotten about, her body feeding the rats. How many others do you think he has hurt, or will hurt if he leaves from here? What happens if we're not there next time?"

Seeing that Su still looked concerned, her eyes flickering nervously between the woman, wizard and gun, Morgan leaned in closer, her voice silky and persuasive, soft and reassuring upon her Su's hearing. "Didn't you want to help this woman? Think of all the other woman you could help in the future, just by stopping this worthless trash. Remember the bullies? They don't bother you anymore, do they? The only difference this time is that he wont stop if we let him go. He needs to be put down, theirs nothing wrong with that."

Morgan wrapped her arm around Su's body, pulling her tightly into aware side embrace and walking her over to where the wizard was still clinging to life. She gently moved the barrel of the pistol until it was pointing towards the wizards head. "Go on."

Su's arms shivered, the gun quivering in her grip as her finger twitched upon the trigger. "I… I can't" she said quietly. "He- he'll die."

He was going to die anyway, but Su probably wasn't aware of that.

"You tried to kill him earlier, why not now?"

"B-but, he was hurting you, you were screaming so badly…" she whimpered, eyes distant.

"Then think about that. If we let him go, he'll come back after us, come back after me. Is that what you want? We might not defeat him a second time."

Something within Su broke at that, her eyes hardening and her arms steadying.

She pulled the trigger, the wizards head exploding in a flash of red and pink, brains smearing the ground.

Morgan had a satisfied smile on her face. Her molding of Su was going perfectly. While she would have preferred this entire experience to have never occurred, she was never one to miss an opportunity.

Patting her on the back, she whispered encouragements into her ear and slowly, a smile appeared upon Su's face, small but there.

Stooping, Morgan picked up the wizards wand, disappointed when it too failed to react properly with her. If anything it was worse that the ash wand, with that she had possessed it for a year and was somewhat used to it, this wand just felt disgusting to hold.

It was made of some dark wood, scuffed and scratched from hard use and about 10 inches long. Placing it into her coat pocket, she turned to the woman shivering in the alley, now watching them with wide, despairing eyes.

She could leave the woman here, now that they had saved her, but… The woman apparently only had a short time to live, no doubt something due to whatever species she belonged to. It couldn't be vampire, the evening sun ruled that out, but it was probably something predatory, using desire to lure prey.

Taking the woman with them represented a significant risk.

Then again, she supposed it was Christmas and she was feeling in a giving mood after Su's success.

If things went wrong, she had her gun.

* * *

She lead Su and the woman - still shivering and casting furtive looks at them - to one of the safe-houses she had set up. A small house with the windows covered by old newspaper and curtains, a living room with a comfy armchair and sofa, as well as unused electrical appliance scattered around the house.

"Now then, why don't you take a seat" she said, pointing to the armchair. She and Su sat on the sofa opposite, watching their visitor carefully. Morgan retrieved another gun from a nearby drawer, placed their just in case, and kept hold of it carefully. The other gun was probably running low of bullets.

"Well, first, why don't we introduce ourselves? I'm Morgan and this is Su."

"Maria" she spoke, tonelessly. Morgan couldn't help but think it was as though the girl had given up inside, as though she had no hope left. It made her frown slightly.

"Maria" Morgan said, smiling gently at her. "Why don't you tell me what led to such… unfortunate circumstances."

Morgan could smell a soft scent of lavender in the room, coming from Maria, and it was beginning to have some rather uncomfortable effects upon her body. It wasn't anywhere near the level it was previously, but it made her wary, knowing that it wasn't normal.

A peek at Su showed that she was unaffected, so was it just because of her adult mind? It was unintentional, what she was doing then, since she should have no idea that Morgan was anything but a child.

Maria looked at her blankly, before shrugging. "My boss wanted me to keep doing something I disagreed with. I ran away when he tried to force me."

"Oh? And what exactly did he want you to do?" She had an idea, but you never know; magic ruined any predictions a person could have.

"Sex" she stated blandly. "For shelter, clothes, food and life force, we had to do anything he wanted us to."

Of course. But life force… That was particularly telling of her non-human status.

"Life force?" she asked sharply, gun raising slightly and pointing at Maria, ready to fire should she show any hostile intentions.

That sparked a bit of interest in Maria's eyes. "You don't know? I'm a Morrigan" she said, as though this was obvious knowledge.

And perhaps it was, but the orphanage was not exactly conducive to learning.

"Assume I have no idea what a Morrigan is. Enlighten me."

Maria raised an immaculate eyebrow, face quizzical. "Well, you are children… We're a race much like Veela, supernaturally attractive, with our own unique magic. And we feed on sex" she mentioned, as if that was a minor afterthought.

"Life force" Morgan repeated, a dangerous undercurrent to her voice. Feeding off sex was all well and good, but if she was capable of fucking people into husks, then she needed to add a few points onto her dangerousness.

"Think of it as taking energy. It doesn't hurt, permanently, it just leaves a person tired out for a while" she said, voice tired. "It was never a problem for us, until now…"

"Ah, your kind used to feed on muggles, I presume? And now that they're gone, you have to feed on wizards, who obviously aren't too happy about that…" It made sense. She couldn't see the xenophobic magical public accepting their existence when they couldn't even accept muggles. It was the same with werewolves and - now that she thought of it - vampires too. All the species that used to feed on muggles, now feeding upon magicals…

The implications were frightening. At this rate, Voldemort would have a huge army upon his return.

She wrenched her thoughts back, vowing to think on that later. "What did he mean, running on dregs?"

Maria slumped, eyes losing the spark of life they had just regained. "We need life force to use magic, so they would force us to use shoddy wands and cast spells to keep our reserves low so we couldn't run."

"Oh? And yet, here you are, having run anyway."

A snarl worked its way onto her face. "I'd rather die than be that bastards personal toy for the rest of my life" she growled.

Morgan was quiet for a while, the sun finally setting beyond the covered windows, the room darkening to a dull grey. With a snap of her fingers and muttered Incendio, a candle upon a table lit up, illuminating the room in a dim orange glow.

Maria's eyes were surprised, flickering between her and the candle.

"What to do with you…" Morgan mumbled. Su, sitting next to her and quiet throughout the conversation, perked up.

"We should let her sleep here" she mumbled.

Morgan looked at her incredulously. "Sleep near us? Did you no-" ah, Su had no idea what sex was, nor the lengths a person would go to survive.

"It's dark out, you said the city wasn't safe at night" Su said. Seeing Morgans hesitance, she widened her eyes, lip trembling as she said "Please?"

Curse Su's kicked-puppy expressions, and curse herself for giving in to it, fool that she was.

"Very well, you may spend the night here, but any suspicious moves will be met with force, understood?"

Maria shrugged, resigned and uncaring. It rather annoyed Morgan, to see her just give up like that. She'd been gaining some respect for her after hearing how she ran, despite the risk of imminent death, but seeing her seemingly give up at the first obstacle just ticked her off.

Keeping a wary eye on her, Morgan lay on the sofa, Su next to her and the gun held in her hand. Not safe, but she was wary. Their was a reason she stayed at the orphanage at night. The workers might all despise them, but they at least deter criminals. An orphanage wasn't an attractive target either. Attacking children was one way to end up being served with the Dementors kiss.

Nerves still fraying from the cruciatus, she slowly fell asleep with Su cuddling up to her.

* * *

She woke up. The candle had gone out at sometime in the night and something was setting her nerves on edge, a low whisper in the air, a chill in the room and the scent of curdled milk tickling her nose.

Her hand gripped the gun tighter in her hand, her eyes flickering around the room. Maria was still within the arm-chair, sleeping it seemed, she wasn't what set her nerves frazzling and teeth clenched. This… This was a more primal feeling, of being hunted in the night back when the human race was still swinging from trees, the sort of feeling you get when you wake up, feeling like you were falling and grasping for a branch that wasn't there; it was instinctive.

Maria's eyes opened and met hers, their alarm showing to each other.

Yes, something was most certainly not right.

A shadow in the corner, deeper than the others, seemed to twitch; with a burst of movement, the shadow leapt for Maria, flying through the air.

It was nailed by a bullet, Morgans gun firing with a deafening crack, bucking in her hands.

A shrill scream pierced the room, followed by screaming from Su, woken by the commotion.

With a wrench of her power, the candle re-lit, revealing the attacker, a pale, sickly looking man, red eyes glaring at her spitefully, fangs depressing his bottom lip and wearing rather scruffy clothing.

A vampire. Her heart thudded in her chest, almost audible in the room, the thumping of blood in her veins never more obvious than now. Adrenaline buzzed through her body, jolting her to full awareness as her neurons fired danger danger danger. She didn't stop to think, her finger pulled the trigger once more, the bullet punching through the vampires eye.

Maria was moving, bolting out of the chair as the vampire screamed. To Morgans horror, she saw the vampire stand, his eye leaking dust even as she poured more bullets into the supernatural monster. Su was crying, trying to huddle behind her as she fired, the noise causing her to flinch and shiver violently.

The gun clicked empty, the last bullet casing ejecting into the air as she felt her heart stop, aware that there was now nothing more between her and the vampire, that was looking extremely upset right now, body leaking dust from various wounds.

" _Wand_!" came a scream from beside her.

Wand?! Right, wand! The wand seemed to almost jump into her hand from her coat and she quickly threw it towards Maria's voice as the vampire leapt towards her, mouth wide and fangs shining.

His hands wrapped tightly around her neck, but she managed to get the barrel of the gun into his mouth, preventing the fatal bite. He snarled in her face, choking off her air as her eyes bulged.

His hands loosened with a hiss as she levered her power, his hands burnt slightly, before they were back on her, squeezing even tighter.

She was terrified, struggling not to die, and yet… The adrenaline, the rush and thrill, she couldn't help the gruesome smile spreading across her face. She felt alive, dancing upon the knife edge of life.

" _Avada Kedavra_!" came a scream, and with a flash of emerald light, Morgan felt death brush by her. She was well acquainted with death, she knew its touch better than anyone, and that light felt like death made physical.

There was a brief moment of shock in the vampires eyes, before his eyes went blank and his body slumped boneless to the floor.

Now that the danger had passed, Morgan could think clearly again, still gasping from the close encounter with death, blinking away the after-images of the killing curse.

That had been… Far too close an encounter with death. Twice, in one day, she had been saved from death by someone else. It gave her something to think about.

Ah, she gave the sexual predator a wand, didn't she? Of course she did. And her gun was empty.

Her head spun, looking for the Morrigan around the room, only to spot her gasping on the floor, face pale as she clutched the wand like a life-line.

And suddenly, she was buffeted by the same desire as before, but this time she resisted, aware that it was an outside source. But it was still distracting.

Morgan was weary, but given that Maria had just saved her life, she was inclined to… trust her, especially as it seemed she had chosen to do so at the cost of her own.

"Why did you use the killing curse? That's a powerful spell, in your condition…"

Maria turned onto her back, breathless as her eyes stared at nothing. "Vampire. Don't know any anti-vamp spells. And I figured…"

"Figured?" Morgan prompted.

She let out a short-breathed laugh, chuckling weakly. "Figured if I was gonna die, I was gonna do it saving some brats." Her voice was raspy, a scratching sound as she spoke. "I guess he was right in the end. What was I planning? To whore for some druggy? I could have stayed for that. At least I did something useful…" A tear trailed down her cheek, quietly weeping. "I just- I just wanted to do something with my life, you know? I didn't care what, just… Something worthwhile. Ha, serves me right, I guess."

Something worthwhile… Morgan could understand that. And now, Morgan was actually looking at her, not as a potential threat, but as a girl who had saved her life at the expense of her own, just to give her life some meaning.

Morgan didn't believe in fate, refused to accept the idea that people somehow weren't responsible for their own actions, but she did believe that a persons choices were what led them and that sometimes coincidences happened. Maria had made the decision to leave _today_ , in time to meet Morgan, then have her life saved and return the favour.

Their was a certain alluring power to that sort of thing.

"What if I told you that you could do something worthwhile? Live beyond this… Untimely demise."

Maria's eyes showed disbelief, incredulity written across her face.

"Don't believe me? That's fine, I wouldn't expect you to, but I'm sure you can listen, yes?" Receiving a nod, Morgan smiled. "Excellent. Then, since we don't have much time, I'll be brief."

"I want to rule the world" she said, with no hesitation and a voice of iron, her orange eyes directly meeting the black of Maria's. "It must sound silly from your perspective. A child, dreaming of ruling the world? How laughable. But I assure you, it is no joke."

"Silly? It sounds ridiculous" she huffed. "You're just some kid, you have no idea what the world is like. It'll chew you up then spit you out."

"Perhaps. But I am far more than an ordinary child." A gleam entered Morgans eyes as she sat astride the Morrigan, smile wicked. "Witness" she breathed.

And the room lit up, unseen candles, previously unneeded, lighting with a brief spark as she spun her spell. Her face showed no sign of the strain doing such a thing took upon her.

"Do you know what I think of this world?" she asked, face lit with the flickering light of candle flame, shining in her black hair, partially concealing her left eye. "I despise it. From its roots to its greatest heights. From Lord Voldemort to Albus Dumbledore. I will burn it to the ground, then recreate it anew." Something very ugly shined from her eyes as she spoke. "A world where a genocide like this can never happen again."

Maria gaped at her, face seemingly more alive than previously. "You're crazy if you think you could do that. It takes more than lighting candles to do that."

"Perhaps, but it is a start. Rome wasn't built in a day, as they say. And besides…" she whispered, leaning next to her ear. "You're about to die. What do you have to lose?"

Morgan heard a gulp from Maria's throat as she swallowed. "Even if I do, how can you save me. You're just a human child."

"If I was just a child, would your power work upon me?" She was met by an incredulous look, that gaped with disbelief as Maria took in her red cheeks, heightened breathing, the way her hips minutely moved beyond her own power as the Morrigans power fueled her lusts to almost uncontrollable levels.

"That's impossible…" she rasped, but even still, Morgan still saw the light of hope within her eyes. To someone that had been so determined to live a meaningful life, there was no way she would so calmly accept death, not when a means to life was so close to her.

"We live in a world of magic. Nothing is impossible. Now, choose. You don't have long left."

Maria stared at her, exhausted and pale, before her eyes shone with determination. Lifting the wand, she spoke, a flash of pure light dazzling Morgans eyes to accompany the vow she made.

The rest of the night passed in a blur.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning found them once again sitting around the living room, the pale light of early morning lighting the room as Morgan sat there exhausted. Tired out for a while, what an amusing way of putting it, so much nicer than mentioning how he would barely be able to walk the next day.

Maria's skin now had a slight glow to it that wasn't there before. Her pale skin was rosier and had a better complexion; she walked with an extra spring in her step this morning, full of vitality.

Su, however… Well, she had to stop hiding behind her hands _eventually._ Morgan did admit that she may have gotten a _little_ carried away, forgetting Su was even there, but really, to literally not be able to look her in the eye? Such dramatics.

"Come now Su, surely there's no need to hide for this long?" she chided.

"Uuuu~" Su whined, face blushing even redder as she hunched further down into the sofa.

Morgan sighed, ignoring her childish actions. "Well, ignoring that" she turned to Maria "why don't you tell us a little more about yourself. As my second follower, it would be remiss of me not to get to know you as well as Su here."

Maria stared at her blankly, then pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't know what I was expecting..." she said. "Is this it, just us 3?"

A playful smile teased the edge of Morgan's lips, eyes glimmering mischievously. "But of course. I'm a child after all. Did you think I was hiding an army of supporters down my trousers?"

"No, no, just… You seemed so… I don't know" she said. "Not that I'm not grateful, but how do you think you can conquer the world with just this?"

"Oh do look up, Maria. From my point of view, this is all going very well really. Why just yesterday it was but me and Su, but now… Well, now I already have a fully trained sorcerer sworn to me. The possibilities..." she drifted off, contemplating. With Maria, she could now find ways to improve her position much faster than she ever expected. Money, training and more, all were now vastly closer to her reach.

Just searching the vampires clothing had revealed a small amount of money, as well as a golden ring. Perhaps she could earn money that way…

"But regardless" she said, snapping her focus back to Maria, voice sharp, "what I need to know most of all right now are your _capabilities._ What magic are you proficient at, what are you weak in, things of that nature. I was rather impressed with your killing curse last night. We can discuss your personal circumstances in more detail another time, when you feel more comfortable with sharing."

Maria looked pensive, arms crossed, her slim legs folding over each other as Morgan's eyes tracked the pale flesh almost instinctively. Goddamn, but she was hot, and that smile on her face said that she knew it as well, observing Morgans reactions.

"Well, I'm pretty awful at transfiguration, like most people really. I know some spells, but I can't really use them in fights. I'm not good at fighting in general really."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "And why's that? I would have thought transfiguration would be a useful skill anywhere." Though it did explain a lot. Many wizards seemed incapable of transfiguring themselves some decent clothes after all.

Maria shook her head. "The only people with a decent chance at becoming good at transfiguration are Hogwarts students, and those are a very small part of the population. Only the best go to Hogwarts, unless you happen to be born into one of the Houses that are always chosen…" she mumbled. "But even then, maybe only a third of them will go onto NEWT's."

How very interesting. It was evidently a much more complicated subject than 'canon' as it were. Not that she put much faith in such these days. Fool she was, but even she knew that information had long become unreliable.

"How about other spells? Charms? …Dark Magic?" What an absurd over-generalization. As though magic could be dropped into such broad categories, but it would have to suffice for now.

"I guess I'm best at charms, as for dark magic, well I never really needed to learn it, so…" said Maria.

"Yet you knew the killing curse? Well, I suppose it is a useful spell. How about the imperius?" That was the important thing. Morgan already had ideas swirling around her thoughts, but one of the central themes of them would include the imperius.

Maria's body tensed, eyes widening in alarm. "You don't want to go touching that sort of magic. The ministry will come down on us with fury if they ever suspect we were using that spell. The killing curse and cruciatus is bad enough, but even a hint of the imperius will bring down the aurors" she said, her voice filled with urgency.

Morgan could understand, given the sheer strength of the curse the ministry would no doubt more harshly hunt those that made use of it. The killing curse just killed, and, well, there were a lot of ways to do that. The cruciatus could intimidate or cause madness, but it was highly noticeable. And that pain… A person would happily tell the aurors their every secret to avoid ever feeling that again.

"Oh? Well then, we'll just have to make sure not to get caught then, wont we? Now, I believe you didn't answer. Can you cast the imperius?" This time, her voice was firm. Maria was _hers_ now, when she asked, she expected an answer.

"...Maybe, I don't know. It's not supposed to be a difficult spell – it's one of many reasons it's so dangerous - but I've never tried it before" said Maria, once again sighing with exasperation.

"Excellent. Oh do relax, I'm not going to have you imperio anyone important, just dregs that no-one will care about. Who will really notice if some thug comes under our control, after all?" It would be especially important that they took every precaution when they used the spell for the first time. It could be a nuisance to deal with if she failed it, no doubt some would take offence at having an imperius thrown at them. Actually...

"W-whats the imperius?" came Su's quiet voice, no longer hidden behind her hands.

"Oh? Su! How nice of you to join us? ...Do stop avoiding my eyes. The imperius is a mind control spell, highly illegal but very useful. And now that I think about it..." Picking up the discarded wand, dropped during the nights activities, she tossed the dark stick over to Maria, who caught it reflexively. "How do you find that wand? A good match? Bad?"

Maria's dark eyes assessed the wand, twirling it through a series of motions as various colored lights splashed against the ceiling harmlessly. "It's not great, but it'll do. I know a little dark magic - a bone breaker and blood boiler - and its a bit more responsive to them, so it's not the best match for me. I prefer more subtle spells."

And didn't a blood boiler just sound delightful? It was useful information, but the killing curse would be more useful for now. "Marvelous. In that case, why don't we try out the imperius? Just cast it on me and try to make me dance a little jig."

"Are you serious?" Ah~, Maria, that exasperated tone seemed to be becoming a habit.

"But of course. What better way to practice?" she said, lips curling and eyes sparkling with mischief. It killed two birds with one stone, practice of the imperius and testing whether she could throw it off.

"You... Fine, whatever, I give up" she sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

Morgan readied herself, steadying her breathing as she watched Maria cautiously. "Keep it on me until I follow through with your command, no matter what."

Maria shrugged, pointing her wand at Morgan. Her lips moved and Morgan didn't even hear the incantation before a white flash erupted, dissipating like a fog as it struck her chest.

Happiness. Joy. Bliss. None of these were enough to describe the simply incredible feeling washing through her, wiping away her worries, her aches, even her thoughts, until the only thing remaining was joy. It... It was like heroin - what she imagined it to be like - as it doused any pain she felt, mental and physical. It was incredible.

 _'Stand up and do a dance'_ her thoughts told her - no - she _thought._ She wanted to stand up and dance, it was natural, in fact, it was a wonderful idea! Their wasn't enough dancing in this miserable world.

Miserable world? What a strange thought. The world was wonderful, she just wanted to smile at how happy she felt, at the sheer joy of being alive at this very moment, within this- this...

 _'Don't worry about it. Just stand and do a dance.'_ Right, dancing! She'd almost forgotten. She slowly stood up, face showing nothing but a small smile. Worries? What were they? She had no worries, why would she have worries in this perfec- perfect...

But the world wasn't perfect, it wasn't good, it wasn't happy. The world was a bitter place, of ruined dreams and crumbling hopes, where the naivety of youth was beaten mercilessly from the stupid. This joy... This joy was fake, why would she ever be happy in thi-

 _'Shh, just do a dance and everything will be fine, it will make the world happy.'_ Her feet started twitching and her head started to hurt, two conflicting thoughts clashing against each other violently. Joy, misery, happiness, bitterness, hope, ruin. All clashed as her mind tried to choose between them.

Where was this joy coming from, anyway? Happiness... Happiness was something you beat out of the world's ever hungry pit, something you protected with a wall of _fire_ , it was something you-

 _'Dance!'_ came the loud thought, but no, she would _not._ She bit her cheek, unfeeling as her tongue tasted the copper tang of blood. It was distinctively not her thought, a stranger trying to push her against her very _self!_

Who was this, to demand that she - _she -_ dance! To beguile her with false joy, with the promise of easily gained happiness. No joy came so easily! This- this invader! Do they not know who she was!? She rejected _death itself._ _Twice._ Looked it in the eye, tasted its fruits and spat in the face of such sterility! Turned her back upon those she lost, those that were no doubt happy in death, for the fireworks of life! Who was this - this - child to command her!

Like a ray of sunlight, her true self pierced through the happy fog that enchanted her, breaking the control of her mind as she fell to the floor screaming, her nails digging into her forehead, the sharp pain slicing into her consciousness.

A heavy _crack_ echoed around the room as she heaved, breathing deeply as her mind cleared, recalling the situation she was in, the commands she'd given Maria. Oh dear, that had been much more than she had expected. Her plans to have them all taught to resist the imperius went up in smoke, for now. She had no idea if it would even be possible to train resistance to that. Something to test for later.

A hint of ozone stung her nose, causing her to look around the room, wincing at the pain from the cuts in her head and cheek. A wand was rolling across the floor towards her, falling from the grip of the gasping Maria, clutching her left shoulder where a burn mark showed, a hole through her clothes to the raw skin below, her eyes wide in pain. It looked like she'd just been hit by lightning. Su, meanwhile, was kneeling next to herself, shaking her shoulder frantically.

"I'm fine, Su, just suffering a little headache" she joked, pushing off Su's worrying. "So, Maria, accidental magic, I assume?" She had been under a lot of stress after all.

Maria ignored her, gaping like a fish out of water, stunned. "You- you threw off the imperius. How!? Do you know how difficult that is? How could a child do something like that? Who- who _are_ you!?" Awe, fear, disbelief, all blended within her tone, the situation overwhelming her.

Perhaps she was only just now realising how deep she had gotten herself. She had acted in a fit of desperation and could only now see the well she had jumped down, with no exit in sight. But, well, Morgan had no intention of softening her fall.

"Who am I?" she mused. "Oh, my dear Maria, did you not believe me before?" A slight chuckle escape her as she stood, eyes blazing. "I am _Morgan Fay._ Why, this is merely the least you should expect. It would be a worthless prospective ruler that could not control themselves, after all." She couldn't help the slight arrogance that entered her tone, she'd just thrown off the imperius after all, a rather momentous occasion. she felt she had the right to brag a little.

"Fay..." Maria whispered, eyes shining before she shook off whatever plagued her thoughts. "There's just us three! How are you so confident? Two children and a former sex worker aren't enough! How do you-"

She was cut-off as Morgan placed a slim finger upon Maria's red lips. "Oh my, it seems you really didn't believe me after all. Such a shame, isn't it a shame, Su?" Su, ever the helpful little thing, nodded her head, now trying to wipe up the small trickles of blood from where Morgan had cut herself. "Last night obviously didn't hit as hard as it looked. But I suppose you were desperate, if you thought me nothing more than a jumped-up child with delusions of grandeur, well, I was still offering to save your life, so you could overlook it."

It was better to nip this in the bud right now. Maria was hers now, every thought, every breath, all belonged to _her._ Maria needed to learn just how much that meant.

"But now, it's time for you to open your eyes. In exchange for your life, you jumped down the rabbit hole, not expecting it to be so deep. Naive and foolish. Right now though, you have a glimpse of where such a rash dive has taken you and I assure you, it will not be getting any easier from here on out. This is only the beginning, still hiring the actors for the grand play ahead.

And what a play it shall be."


	5. Chapter 5

The library they spent most of their time at was a nice place, small but unnoticed, filled with useful books for teaching Su with. There weren't even any of the usual ash piles she had found within buildings, all that remained of what was once a muggle after wizards burnt the bodies.

Rows of tables, interspersed with bookshelves between them, lay along the two sides of the long room, a thick red carpet separating the two sides. Su sat at one of those tables, shiftily glancing at Morgan, as she does whenever she started slacking off.

A minuscule frown appeared on Morgans face and Su immediately diverted her attention back to the math problems in front off her. Well, she was a child. It would be unreasonable to expect her to stay focused for so long, so Morgan let it go.

It was something she constantly had to keep a check on, the way she kept falling into treating Su like an adult rather than the child she was. In some ways, Su was much more mature than any child she had ever seen before. She didn't show it much, being a generally quiet girl, but it was enough to cause Morgan to treat her as older than she was.

Focusing, Morgan concentrated upon the blue hula hoop in front of her, the rough wood of the ash wand digging into her palm and the thick carpet scrunched beneath her toes.

She would master this, no matter how long it took, just like everything else. No matter how much it hurt.

With a twist of her heel and wand, space warped and cracked around her, the world squeezing her as her body felt like being dragged through a far too thin tube. God, but it took a lot to get used to.

And that wasn't including the expected pain at the end.

With a _crack,_ she reappeared within the hula hoop, flushed with success.

It took a moment for the pain to register.

She grit her teeth, stifling the scream she wanted to let out as she dropped to her knees, black trousers hitting the carpet and clutching her wrist. Her hand was gone, still clutching the ash wand in the other hoop from where she had apparated, leaving nothing but sharp, electrical pain racing up her arm. Her vision narrowed to a singe point as all her being focused upon the pain, resisting the urge to announce it to the world. She would _not_ give in to this, she had experienced far worse and she would _not_ let this affect her!

A puff of smoke erupted around her wrist and it was with relief that Morgan saw her hand had become reattached, the pain vanishing. Her thoughts were once again clear, unclouded by the urgent messages of pain stabbing her mind.

She had failed again. It was frustrating, but she never expected this to be easy. She would work at it until she got it, just like everything else.

"Again?" came Maria's tired voice. "You've been trying this for _days_ now, why can't you just accept that you're not ready for this?" Standing above her, Maria looked unconcerned with her prior pain, lowering the wand from where she had fixed her arm.

Morgan threw a sharp-eyed glare at her. "I shall master apparition. I have no care for how long it takes." She stood up, once again entering the original hoop to try again, fingers still twitching.

"Yes, I know that, but _why_? I've told you before, you're just too untrained for it. You're magic is still too wild for something as complex as this and that wand is no help" she said, throwing a distasteful look at the ash wand. Maria had tried it once and after having the spell rebound on her, stuck to the one she already had. "You haven't ever managed not to splinch yourself and you've been trying for _weeks."_

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Do have some faith Maria. Remember when I cut myself in half? Nothing that bad has happened in quite a while. Progress is being made, it merely takes a little time." She scowled at her next thought. "Although it would be easier if one of us could buy a book on it, rather than relying on your half-remembered teaching."

Maria had learned apparition by being shown and told what to do, she'd never gone into the theories of how it worked, her magic was trained enough that she didn't need to. Thus why it was taking so long for Morgan.

It didn't help that her mind couldn't help being distracted by the impossibility of apparition, the way a person could bend space with pure will. It merely caused her frustration trying to figure it out by instinct alone.

"Um..." began Su, looking up once again. Their eyes met, but upon Su's puppy eyes, Morgan relented and motioned for her to continue. Not an adult, she reminded herself.

"Why can't Maria buy you a book?" she asked.

Morgan waved to Maria, who explained. "Because, ever since Malfoy took charge, so-called 'dark' beings are being hunted down. Werewolves, vampires, morrigans, sirens, sphinxes, hags and so on, they've all gone into hiding or fled the country before the ministry hunts us all down." Her expression turned solemn as she explained. "My moth-" she cut herself off, eyes closing tightly. With a sigh, she sat down next to Su, face in her hands and breaths deep.

Morgan left her to herself. She knew well the feeling of losing family.

"That's not very nice" said Su, frowning. "Why would he do that? I thought he was nice, helping muggles and stuff."

"Ha! Helping muggles she says!" exclaimed Maria from behind her hands. "If only you knew! He's hardly helping them."

Su looked confused at this, but that rapidly changed to alarm at the loud _crack_ echoing around the room as Morgan apparated to Maria's side, unconcerned about the pain throbbing from her hand.

Morgan had a sickly sweet frown upon her face as she grabbed Maria's shoulder tightly, fingers digging into her top. "Oh, don't stop on my account. Please, tell us about his treatment of the muggles. _Now._ "

Maria finally removed her hands from her face, weepy eyes wide in shock as the temperature of the room skyrocketed, sweat beading her forehead. Morgan made no attempt to control her rampant emotions, the _fury_ burning within her at what Maria had just implied. She'd thought Malfoy would treat the few still alive well, keep up the appearance of compassion he wore for the media…

"Y-you've never wondered? W-where do you think new orphans come from?" she said, her voice quavering from the intensity of Morgans burning gaze, drilling into her skull.

He- he was _breeding them?!_ And the world just stood by and _watched_? Fucking useless, all of them! Useless old bastards! Fucking…!

Her temper only soared as she thought, heat-waves emanating from her body as power flooded her veins, held under her control by nothing more than a thin thread of control, the faint thought that Su was right next to her stopping herself from venting her rage.

She'd never given it much thought. Why would she, she had no care for the other orphans. They might as well not exist as far as she cared. They leave her and Su alone, and they don't have any repeats of Morgan beating their foolishness out of them.

But now… Half-forgotten memories rose up, of seeing babies at the orphanage and briefly wondering where they came from before dismissing the thought. She'd never considered…

That- that _monster_! Breath hissed out from between clenched teeth as her face thundered with fury. She would see him broken beneath her heel, just like the rest. Take his arrogant little swine of a child and make him _watch_ as she…

She stopped that thought, calming herself a little as she reigned her magic in, the room returning to normal temperature to Su's and Maria's relief. She had to be careful, it was all too easy to label a person via what she remembered. For all that she was aware, Draco could be a perfectly reasonable child. Yes, far better not to let her judgement be clouded by preconceived notions.

And now, she _itched_ with the urge to do something. For weeks, they'd been sitting back, collecting information and preparing. Perhaps it was time they used what they now knew.

* * *

How had she ended up here? How had she become the pawn of a ruthless, power-hungry _child?_

Desperation. The bitter thought echoed through her skull. She'd been desperate, it was that simple. The girl had offered her a means of survival without resorting to force and in the moment it had seemed like a good idea.

Merlin, why hadn't she just faked it? Looking back, it would have been so simple to just fake the oath. It wasn't even hard! It was just…

That night, lit by the candles Morgan had set alight with sheer will, combined with that look on her face and she'd...

It had felt like Morgan was looking at her very soul, as though she would imediately know if she did such a thing and with her life on the line, she hadn't wanted to risk it. So she swore herself to a child, it would suck but at least she would survive, right?

Would she make the same choice, if she knew then what she did now? If she knew the depths the girl was pulling her towards, the way the darkness slowly swallowed her up the more she stayed around her?

Even Morgans magic felt dark; sharp and burning, just looking for a victim. Oh, it was fading the more she gained control, but for now it was still there, ready to burn all in its path…

And it was so _alluring._ Su had already fallen into it, her own magic having begun to turn as dark as Morgans the longer they were around each other… The girl never stood a chance, being groomed into the perfect minion as she was. Merlin, the first time they met Morgan had just convinced her to murder someone.

But no, even now, she felt she would make the same decision. She was _alive,_ safe, and not merely some toy.

And she couldn't help finding herself agreeing with Morgan more and more.

And that terrified her more than anything. It was a sign that she too was falling into Morgans seductive magic.

But- but what did it _matter?_ Who cared anymore, if she became as dark as a Death Eater? The world was already fucked, at least following Morgan she would have a chance at changing things, of being so much more than she was...

She glanced down at the dark wand within her grasp. And it _was_ a dark wand, in every way. When it came to performing dark spells, the thing _sang_ in her grasp, feeling less and less dirty the longer she held it.

In the end, what was the good of the so-called _light?_ Where were they when the ministry captured her mother, raped her and killed her while she watched, nothing but a quickly cast spell fom her mother preventing them from finding herself?

Vampires, werewolves, hags, all were getting more and more desperate. Sure, they could leave the country, but then what? The rest of the world was _worse._ Britain at least had Albus Dumbledore doing his best to campaign for their rights, little though he had succeeded. The rest of the world?

It was a blood bath, for vampires and hags especially. If she had to repay blood with blood to change things, then…

She cut off that line of thought, shaking her head, More and more she found herself with such thoughts as Morgans darkness swallowed her. Merlins beard, but it would be so much easier if she wasn't so _convincing._ Maria _believed_ her when she said she would change the world. Morgan spoke of equal rights and Maria knew she could do it.

And that was how it started, wasn't it? With convincing whispers clawing at your psyche, tearing you down and rebuilding you until you agreed with their point of view.

It didn't help that Morgan was her sole source of life-force either.

She was stood atop a block of flats, looking down into the dark streets below, lit by a faint moonlight. For weeks, Morgan had her scoping out the city, particularly around the ever expanding residential area springing up near Diagon Alley. Now that wizardkind had no need to hide, people could come together and build communities in full view and the market of Diagon Alley was a great attractor, especially since this was the capital of Britain.

Communities had been springing up around the Alleys of cities all around the country as muggle infrastructure was slowly cleared out for wizarding homes.

And of course, where there were large numbers of people there would be a darker side, where crime was rampant.

She'd been following a rather careless drug dealer for a while now. Every evening, he would apparate to a small alley, there to await customers. He was a nobody, as far as she could tell. He probably made his own drugs in his basement or something to sell; the ministry would find him soon, he was too careless. It hadn't even taken her all that long to spot him.

In other words, he was a perfect target. Morgan wanted money, but she wanted security more. Minimum risk ventures were all she was allowed to perform. This man should have some money saved up, hopefully, and would be a perfect target to control with the imperius. With her help, he could remain unnoticed and keep bringing in gold for them.

More importantly, he was someone she felt deserved the imperius more than most. Gold wasn't the only thing he took as payment.

Ha, listen to her, thinking of people deserving the imperius. How did the world come to this? She _hated_ that spell, yet here she was, about to use it and not feeling guilty.

She knew how she came to this. It was the sense of vindication she felt watching Marco get his brains blown out by tiny little Su, with a muggle weapon! The sense of _justice!_ Maybe she wasn't thinking straight, perhaps Morgan had her claws into her deeper than she suspected, but she couldn't help it anymore.

She would throw her lot in with Morgan, for better or worse, if only because she could hardly make the world worse than it was.

The world seemed to slow as she pointed her wand at the dimly-lit figure below, awash with faint moonlight. This would be her first time using the spell on someone other than Morgan, who barely flinched to it these days.

And wasn't that just terrifying? A child, able to throw off the imperius. Maria had tried, had tried everything from force to seductive whispers, but nothing took. The girl was a _rock._ Her willpower was an oncoming storm, casting aside all in its path. She couldn't overpower that, it was all she could do to keep herself from crumbling beneath its wieght.

" _Imperio_ " she whispered, the foul spell flying from her wand as her blood sang in _retribution._ It impacted, dissipating like mist as she felt her will collide with the mans.

And easily overpowered it. Was this the willpower of the average person? It was so puny, a sand castle to Morgans iron fortress. She'd held out some hope that perhaps…

Perhaps she was just bad at the imperius and that was why Morgan was so strong, but no.

The terrifying truth was that Morgans will was simply that strong.

She could feel the man's mind, like a bump within her skull, ever-present and suffocated by her own. With a simple thought, the man stopped still as she jumped off the building, slowing her descent with a quick _Arresto Momentum._

He was blond, wearing black slacks and a thick coat, briefcase in one hand and wand in the other. Wordlessly, he knelt and opened the case at her feet, revealing the tiny vials of potions held within.

After looking them over, she had him apparate her to his safe-house, in which her assumption was proven correct. The basement - and rest of the house really - were being used to create drugs. Potions boiled in the basement, plants grew within various rooms, lit by sunlight lamps and he had a small hideaway beneath some floor boards, filled with gold and silver coins.

It was all ridiculously sloppy. His method of staying hidden seemed to be to hide in plain sight, with no magic. It was a childish idea, as though using less magic made you harder to find. There weren't even any charms up to prevent location spells designed to seek out things like these plants.

But those could be fixed, especially now that they had a wizard, able to buy things for them. Morgan could finally get a book on apparition, if she wished.

As it was, she was able to set up a few charms around the building, anti-detection and notice-me-not's. Not brilliant, but she was hardly an expert. She knew enough to keep herself hidden, usually, but she hadn't had a wand when Marco cornered her.

She made him hide out within the building until she returned. She would need to inform Morgan and come up with a plan, plans to avoid detection, to spread products further, to defend themselves from rival drug pushers….

She sighed. She would have a lot of work ahead, being the only one capable of using magic. At least she had her own helper now.


	6. Chapter 6

Morgan was tapping her foot impatiently, sitting upon the rickety chair within her orphanage room, while Su sat upon the bed. Today was the day that Hogwarts letters would go out to those children already eleven years old - those that weren't got their's upon their 11th birthday.

She and Su were both 11, with Morgans birthday being on October 31st and Su's on the 12th, so they should both get their letters today. They had better get their letters today, lest Morgan did something she regretted.

No-one knew how Hogwarts chose its students, only that it was the castle itself that chose. Only the best got in - or those from certain pureblood families - and all usually far outstripped the rest of the country in magical ability. Even the most dim pureblood could become a decent sorcerer at Hogwarts.

Her face was set in a frown, the slowly cooling cup of tea upon the desk swirling as she moved the spoon within the mug with her power. She'd seen a couple wizards doing this and had decided to try it out, if for no other reason than because she could. She'd worked hard for these powers, it would be a shame not to find some use for them.

Worries plagued her. For all her effort, it was impossible to say whether she and Su would be accepted into the school. Many plans hinged upon her acceptance into Hogwarts. Delicate plans, many of which were made on the assumption of 'canon' occurring in some manner.

At the very least, it wasn't the end if they didn't make it though. She had a decent amount of money now, they wouldn't lack for good wands or study materials as well as a couple other plans that should be unchanged, but she would have to vastly reconsider her future... recruitment efforts.

It didn't help that they were being forced to spend the day inside the orphanage, in case a Professor hand-delivered the letters.

A knock came at the door, and Morgans head swung immediately to it, a feeling of joy rising up. On this day, someone, for the first time, had knocked upon her door. This would be someone from Hogwarts, she could feel it.

She opened the door to a face she didn't recognise, a middle-age witch in a blue dress and cloak, her brown hair within a tight bun and dark brown eyes peering down at her from behind a pair of round glasses.

"Good afternoon" the witch said. "Might I come in?"

Nodding, Morgan moved out of the way, allowing the witch to enter the small room, her eyes searching around what no doubt looked terrible to her and coming to rest upon Su with a frown. "Please, do make yourself... comfortable" Morgan said, closing the door to the no doubt eavesdropping orphans and sitting next to Su.

The witch looked distastefully at the only other chair within the room, before she withdrew a long, dark wand, flicking it at the chair. They watched in amazement as the previous old wooden chair became a comfortable looking armchair, Su especially looking enraptured by the display,

A flick of a wand, that was all it took. For something no doubt highly complex... Why, it took Morgan some serious effort just to manipulate a flame, or cause someone pain, or other things, without a wand.

It made her hunger for that piece of wood.

"I am Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress and transfiguration teacher of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" McGonagall stated, sitting upon the newly created chair. "Would I be correct in assuming you two are Miss Fay and Miss Li?" Her eyes flicked over Morgan and Su, watching Su cautiously for some reason, but Morgan wasn't paying attention, to her or Su's enthusiastic nodding.

McGonagall. That name resounded around her head, repeating again and again. She'd known it was a possibility, but she hadn't realised...

Just how much she hated this filthy woman. It wasn't fair to her, Morgan knew that, but it didn't change the fact that whenever she thought about those that could have changed the worlds fate, McGonagall was one of those at the top of the list.

 _This useless worm!_ The tide of rage and hate, always there but usually hidden, came soaring up, almost choking her in its intensity. Where was she when the world _died?!_ When she had to watch her own sister waste away in front of her, unable to do anything!

McGonagalls eyes went wide, her eyes shooting to Morgan as a candle upon the desk behind her roared to life, the large red flame casting dancing shadows across the room. For a moment, she forgot everything, the desire to see this waste of air burnt to cinders all she could think of as her magic woke from its lazy rest, thudding through her veins as power leaked off her and warmed the room.

She was distracted from her anger by a pinch at her arm, head snapping to see just who _dared..._

Ah, it was Su, of course. She was watching her with wide eyes, that kicked puppy expression that always made her fold like a stack of cards. Why, it was practically cheating, using such an expression, but it did the job. With a deep breath, she brought her magic back under control, the flame vanishing.

"My apologies" she spoke. "I merely figured out the reason for your visit. The, ah, excitement, overwhelmed me. Accidental magic, I'm sure you can understand." Their was no trace of the rage upon her face anymore, her expression a slight smile, relaxed and pleasant.

She was such a fool. To be so enraged by the mere presence of a woman who was just a teacher. She should have expected her to be younger than she was, it was a common thing these days.

Her apology clearly didn't assuage McGonagall's worries, if her tight grip upon her wand was anything to go by. Now, her wide eyes seemed focused upon Morgan, never wavering for even a second.

It was rather obvious why, now. Her own magic was controlled enough that a person wouldn't be able to sense its rather... dark nature. But Su, well, Su was like all the other children. Without any training, her magic radiated from her, gentle but noticeable. Whereas the other children were generally bland, with maybe some light or dark 'colouring' for lack of a better word, Su was practically pure black.

Not surprising, since she was a murderer. And given the fearful looks children gave Su these days...

And, well, her own magic was no doubt worse. Magic reflected the person, after all.

McGonagall quickly rallied. "Yes, well" she said, clearing her throat "I am here to offer the both of you positions as students at Hogwarts." Reaching into her cloak, she withdrew two pure white envelopes, embossed with a red-wax Hogwarts emblem.

Su practically ripped hers from McGonagall's hand, opening it with eagerness. Morgan watched with amusement as she opened her own, confirming what she already knew would be written down. Uniforms, book lists and the like.

"I-I made it into Hogwarts..." Su whispered, eyes bright, before seizing Morgan in a tight hug. "Thank you! I-if it wasn't for you, I-I would n-neve-" Seeing that Su was quickly devolving into a blubbery mess, Morgan grimaced. Did Su just wipe her nose on her shoulder? Well, that was quite enough of that.

"I would be a poor teacher if you didn't now, would I not?" she said, smiling even as she pushed the blubbery - and snotty - child away from her. "And what about tuition? As you've no doubt noticed, we don't exactly have the means to pay ourselves" she said, turning to McGonagall. Well, Morgan could, now, but she wasn't going to.

"There is an orphan fund, for those unable to pay, that shall cover your tuition, though you may have to buy your other things cheaply should you choose to accept."

Morgan looked at her blankly. "We accept, right Su? Right. I guess that means you'll be giving us the money to buy our things?"

McGonagall frowned at her. "It is traditional for new muggleborn students to be accompanied by a Professor to buy their supplies."

Unsaid was that they didn't have to, but she expected them to. Unfortunately, Morgan didn't really feel like being led around Diagon Alley under the watchful eye of McGonagall. She had her own vault after all, full of money, with no intentions to let on that she had it. Well, except for buying decent things. She'd rather be caught dead than have her and Su turn up at Hogwarts in second-hand clothes.

"Excellent, then if you don't mind, we'll take the money and go by ourselves. We wouldn't want to... inconvenience you. I'm sure you must have better things to be doing, yes?"

McGonagalls eyes narrowed at her, her brow crinkling unhappily. "I believe Miss Li can speak for herself, Miss Fay."

Oh~, Morgan could already tell they were going to have a fun seven years together. She couldn't wait to teach this failure her place. Morgans smile turned sharp at the thought, before she nudged Su. "Well Su, what do you want. To go shopping with the Professor here, or with me?" As though she needed to ask.

"You" Su replied, as expected. In fact, judging by the way she was frowning at the good Professor there, she had begun to pick up on Morgan's dislike.

McGonagall took a deep breath, eyes flickering between Morgan and Su. "I see." Reaching into her cloak, she withdrew two small coin purses and handed them over. "I can see that I wont be able to persuade either of you. Then, I shall see you both at Hogwarts, unless their are any other questions you want to ask?"

"No, I do believe that will be all" said Morgan. She could see that it upset McGonagall, answering in Su's stead, but it only made her smile wider. She threw an arm over Su's shoulder, reveling in the way Su snuggled into herself as McGonagall's face grew stonier.

If she wished for Morgans cooperation, she should have been less of a failure.

"Very well then, I shall see you both at the start of term." And with that, she stiffly stood and left the room.

She never let go of her white knuckled grip upon her wand.

Ah~ no doubt she had just put herself under McGonagall's heavy scrutiny, but it was worth it, if only to see how unnerved she was. Whatever she saw when Morgan grabbed her power had clearly offset her.

"Hey Morgan" said Su, pulling Morgan from her thoughts, orange eyes meeting a piercing look from Su. "Why don't you like her?"

Why? Well... "Because she watched the world burn, and she did nothing. In my eyes, she's worse than Voldemort."

"Oh" she said, going quiet. "Then why do you like me? I haven't done anything..." she mumbled, trailing off.

"Come now, don't be silly" Morgan replied, ruffing her hair. "The reason why I like you, is simply because you asked me for help, when all others were too scared to. _You_ , Su, didn't merely stand by, no, you stood up for yourself and tried to become more. I like that." So saying, she stood up, pulling the ash wand from beneath her pillow and grabbing Su by the hand. "Now, come on. We've got shopping to do."

* * *

What a horrific mess.

Exiting the orphanage, she still couldn't let go of her tight grip upon her wand. That meeting... It had unnerved her, in a way she couldn't remember feeling for years.

Their were so few muggleborn students these days, handing out letters had become one of her favourite activities in these last few years. Although the number were few, the joy of a student when being given a letter was something she cherished, something that helped her keep going in her darker moments. She got to do it so rarely now...

She had expected today to be the same, but no, now she found herself wishing those children - or rather, that child - had never been given a letter.

Such monstrous darkness... Miss Li had been bad enough. It was very rare that she ever met a child as dark as that, but it had happened, and with the life she had thought the girl had lived, she could at least understand it and try to correct the damage.

She'd been so focused upon the scent of Miss Li's magic, that she had completely missed that Miss Fay had _no_ magical scent. At the very least, that was only possible for children with wands, for a wandless child to achieve such control...

It should have made her more cautious. Not scared, no, but a child that gifted had a huge potential and she should have paid more attention.

Thus, she had been taken by surprise when the girls magic lashed out. For a horrible moment, she had been convinced the girl was about to kill her. The air had stung with the scent of fire, a dark, cloying scent that pierced the back of her mind and sent the cat instincts inside her into a hissing mess.

She hadn't felt like that since- since she had last faced You-Know-Who, before he became the monster. It was a level of darkness that went beyond merely being a dark wizard.

That was the magic of a rising Dark Lord, one that wanted to destroy the very world, and poor Miss Li had already fallen to the seductive side of it, as many had fallen to Tom's, when his magic still had that enchanting scent to it, rather than the cold, domineering power it had become before his demise.

She'd kept the conversation short, wanting nothing more than to get out of that room.

How?! How could- she strangled that thought. It was obvious how. The sheer state of the orphanage was all she needed to see to know how.

A muggleborn Dark Lord. Dear Merlin.

But no, with an effort she seized down on her rising panic, squashing it beneath years of self-control. The girl was only 11, it was impossible to determine where a child might go when they grew up. She might still change her.

 _Because she watched the world burn, and she did nothing. In my eyes, she's worse than Voldemort._ Those words gripped at her thoughts, running around and around. She wanted to charge back in, to shout that she had done everything she could, _everything_ , to try and stop that monster. But it would be useless, that child would not listen to words, only actions.

She would have to inform Albus, hopefully they might find a way to fix this mess.

Before the girl grew up and began the cycle anew.

* * *

Just wanted to say thanks to all the people that have liked the story so far. Sorry this took a while, I was struggling with the chapter order. I wanted to get a chapter inside Su's thoughts, but it wasn't working, so I put it off for later. I'll just say that Su is really messed up. Bellatrix 2.0, here we come~

As for this chapter, not too happy with it to be honest, but I just wanted to get it out. I may go back to edit later.


	7. Chapter 7

She and Su entered Gringotts, past the great doors inscribed with its warning to potential thieves.

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed_

 _Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

 _For those who take, but do not earn,_

 _Must pay most dearly in their turn,_

 _So if you seek beneath our floors_

 _A treasure that was never yours,_

 _Thief, you have been warned, beware_

 _Of finding more than treasure there._

Was anyone truly deterred from attempting to breach the vaunted walls of Gringotts by such a poem? No, she didn't think that was the intention, not from what feelings the poem inspired within her.

This was a challenge, to all potential thieves. It fit better with what the Goblins were; unconcerned with warnings, they would revel in Sorcerers attempts to break the security of Gringotts, especially the most deep vaults, guarded by a dragon.

Killing a dragon was no easy feat.

The smooth granite floor sparkled beneath her feet and the high ceiling was held up by great stone pillars, rising high above, lit by crystal chandeliers. It would be impressive, had she not seen better from muggle architecture.

The Goblin tellers looked down upon them from their high seats, sneering down at them from behind their long, pale noses. Nasty little creatures, who would grasp any attempt to feel the superior of Wizardkind.

Were they really so bad? She had wondered, for awhile. She was not heavily inclined to believe a Wizard's view of another species' worth, but she'd read as much as she could and her interactions with them only convinced her.

They were scum, that would not be satisfied until they were the ones in control.

The teller they went to sneered down at them. "Well? What do you want? I haven't got all day" it said in a nasally voice. Male or female, she had no idea, she wasn't even sure whether they had separate genders.

Morgan sneered at the little cretin. "Oh, I apologise. Perhaps a manicure, a hair trim, some new clothes and- my, what do you think I want? Take me to my vault." Reaching into her top, she pulled out a shining golden key, a thin chain tying it around her neck, presenting it to the resentful eyes of the Goblin.

Ah, the look of distaste upon its face made her afternoon. "Very well" it said. And with no further words, it jumped down from atop its high stool, revealing itself to be barely 3 feet tall, at least 2 feet shorter than two 11 year olds.

Su snorted next to her, then clapped her hands over her mouth as the Goblin whirled round, glaring. "Did you find something funny, witch?" it growled, hairless face scowling.

Ah, Su. She truly was delightful. Morgan had forgotten that Su had yet to met a Goblin and she would hardly blame her for the reaction. She had been much the same.

"No doubt she was merely surprised by your, ah... Lacking height. Why, sitting so high up, are you compensating for something? There's nothing shameful about being short you know."

Oh, such a look of murderous rage, did she say something offensive? Her smile only rose the more the Goblin glared at her, teeth bared. "Why, does that upset you? Why don't you just wave your wand and make yourself taller…. Oh, right."

It snarled, fingers twitching, the pointed nails ridged and claw like. It leaned forward, preparing itself. It really was too easy to rile these things up…

With a faint grin and burning eyes, she tapped into the merest edge of her power, the scent of burning tickling her nose as the surroundings warmed. The tension was so thick, it felt like they were about to attack each other at the slightest provocation. Unfortunately…

"Clawnail! What are you doing?!" came a deep voice, cutting across the large banks atrium. Turning, Morgan's smile turned a little more genuine.

She despised Goblins, but at least there was one she could tolerate.

"Well, answer me!" Blacktooth growled, standing nose to nose with the now paler Goblin.

"S-sir, you should have hea-"

"Yes, no doubt she called you a midget with a fat nose. Grow up, you should know better by now!" Blacktooth sneered, revealing his namesake, a black fang longer than the rest. "Back to work, i'll deal with you later."

Clawtooth scurried off, casting angry glances her way. Such a shame, she was rather enjoying that.

"Blacktooth" she drawled. "Must you ruin my fun?"

He just scowled at her with his beady little eyes, looking down his nose at her. But, of course, she was more focused upon the white mustache upon his lip. It was hilarious, like a thick caterpillar and so out of place amongst the rest of them.

"The last time you had your 'fun' I had to break down a decent worker to shovelling shit."

"It is hardly my fault it couldn't control itself. Why, I'm doing you a favor, exposing such thin-skinned workers" she said, grinning.

"Yes, your a true patron saint. Now come on, I don't have all day." Turning on his heel, he lead the way deeper in Gringotts, towards the carts to vaults.

"Very well, come along Su. Try not to laugh at the caterpillar upon his lip, we don't want to be impolite now, do we?"

Su was looking very confused, not sure whether to laugh or stay silent, so she just shut up, probably wise but much less fun.

"Again with the mustache. Are you ever going to drop it?" he said.

"Nope~."

"Don't know what I was expecting" he grumbled, leading them into a dark, long cave, a metal cart sitting upon the track that went down the centre, lit only by faint torchlight interspersed at various points along the rough stone tunnel, leading off into the darkness.

The smell of mold hung in the air and the sound of water dripped from afar as she and Su sat upon the cold metal cart, causing her to grimace slightly.

"Whats wrong? Can your weak female body not handle the cold?" said Blacktooth, grinning down at her from where he stood next to the cart lever.

She just smiled in return. "Oh, I'm sure you can understand. I lack your more…" she trailed, eyes once again upon his thick mustache "insulating components."

Ah, this was rather refreshing in all honesty. Throwing insults back and forth, just like how they met when she first mocked his travesty that he called facial hair. He was a Goblin! It was so unusual it deserved double the mocking. And she knew that he enjoyed these back and forths just as much.

"You have my pity" he dead-toned. "And whose the limpet, dragging at your heels? Finally got tired of playing around with that long-legged whore? Going after the young ones now?"

"You know me, I love the vulnerable ones. Su, meet Blacktooth, named after that rotting enamel he's so proud of. Blacktooth, Su. Do be nice, she's a gentle soul."

Blacktooth met Su's eyes, both of them staring at each other, eyeing the other up. He sniffed the air, grimacing slightly. "Yes, gentle..."

Su's slim eyes narrowed in warning, but he was already turning away. With a wrench of the lever, the cart shot off.

It was much like a rollercoaster, though not really, Rollercoasters were scarier. Still, Su was happily enjoying herself, and Morgan thought it was a rather nostalgic thing.

The ride wasn't long - her vault wasn't anywhere near the level of old pureblood ones after all - and they came to a stop in front of a heavy, wrought-iron door, the dark metal gleaming in the dim light. Getting out of the cart, they watched as Blacktooth inserted the golden key, trailing his nail across unseen grooves as gears whined, the door crumbling away and revealing the rather sizable amount of coins within.

She'd been building this up for years, after all. Thanks to Maria's help, she'd managed to gather vastly more than she had expected. Drugs were such a terrible thing, truly dreadful…

That said though, it was much less than she had last time. "Ah, Blacktooth, I presume the acquisition went through with no trouble?"

"No, I just took all your money for myself. Of course it went through, though why you would spend so much money on that company… You know broomstick makers are practically a dime-a-dozen these days, right?" Though he looked unconcerned, she could see the slight worry creasing his brow.

"Why, you almost sound like you care, how charming. I'll be sure to send you a christmas card, as thanks" she teased. "But don't worry, you could say I have a good feeling about this one."

Indeed, most broomstick companies amounted to very little, many were actually complete frauds. Nimbus and Clearsweep were the only real choice of brooms anymore, in Britain and much of Europe, anyway. Firebolt, to most, would seem like another fraudster, making undeliverable claims.

Morgan knew better. Right now it was worthless, having released one completely unremarkable broom years earlier, but in the future…

She quickly gathered up enough money for her and Su, then hopped back into the cart as it shot back to the surface.

"Do try not to miss me, Blacktooth" Morgan said, smirking at the bored looking Goblin.

"My heart weeps for your absence" he replied, blankly staring at her. "Now get out, before you piss off another of my workers."

Nodding, she grabbed Su by the hand, leading her out, into the cobblestone-lined streets of the Alley.

"Well, that was fun, right Su?"

She nodded. "Are… are all Goblins like that? They didn't seem very happy to see us…"

Morgan chuckled, leading Su towards the shops. "The Goblins are a prideful, resentful race. They believe themselves to be supreme and hate that Sorcerers deny them what they feel is their right to rule. They've tried and failed so many times to rule that at this point, I think the hate is almost genetic in them."

Su's asian features crinkled slightly. "Oh…"

Moving on, she dragged Su all over the alley. They bought the standard school clothes, black skirt, white shirt and black robe, as well as all the other equipment they needed except wands. Those could wait until last.

She even forced Su to go get her hair cut, hardening her resolve when she tried to whine her way out of it. Su seemed fond of the bob cut, while Morgan kept hers swept over her left shoulder, fringe partially covering one orange eye.

Finally, she stood outside the shop she most eagerly anticipated, Ollivanders.

How many years had she waited for this, for the power inherent within a properly matched stick of wood. Struggling day after day with her own power, focused only by her will and instinct. With a wand…

She strode into the shop, calm and confident. The left wall was entirely taken up by stacks of small boxes, from floor to ceiling. Wooden steps led up to a second floor on the left, a desk lit by a lamp next to them. Their was a very… Homely feel about this shop, with all the dark wood, orange lighting and rather cosy look to it. Sadly, it was ruined by the haunting spectre of Ollivander, peering at them from behind the desk, his eerie blue eyes searching them as his hands twirled a rectangular block of wood.

"Ah, here for your wands, I presume? Yes, yes, It's always good to get an early start. Wait just a moment." Standing, he reached into a drawer, pulling out a tape measure. "Now, which are your dominant hands?"

Straight to it? Well, Morgan wouldn't complain. They were both right hand dominant, so they both raised their right arm when said to, jumping slightly as the tape measure shot out, taking measurements of seemingly everything it could before whisking back into its case.

"Well then, why don't we start with you, miss…" he said, looking at Su, a slim finger perched upon his lips as his eyes seemingly looked through Su.

"Su Li" said Su, meeting his eyes unflinchingly.

"Miss Li" he said, inclining his head. "Here, try this one first. Vine, unicorn tail hair, 10 inches" he said, grabbing a nearby box and thrusting the wand within into her hand.

Only to snatch it away again, leaving Su standing there, blinking. "No, no" he said. "Not bad, but not the ideal either… Try this, beech, dragonheartstring, 12 and a quarter inches, swishy."

This wand he allowed Su to hold and with a wave it shot from her hand and into the back of the shop.

Morgan browsed the shop as more wands were tried out, eventually settling upon a chair to the side and watching with faint amusement as Su grew more frustrated, a small frown creasing her adorable face.

"Hmm, very interesting…" said Ollivander, eyes gleaming. "I can see you're much more mature than ordinary children, Miss Li." He drifted off into thought. "I think I know of the wand for you. A dragon heartstring core and… Hmm, yes, let's see…"

He disappeared into the back of the shop, reappearing with a green box within his hands.

"Here, try this one. Cedar, 10 inches, inflexible, the core from a particularly territorial Hebridean Black. Go ahead, give it a wave."

Her face showing frustration, she opened the box, grabbing the dark wand within; it was slim, with the handle spiralling upwards, twisting about itself until it merged seamlessly with the straight shaft.

Her eyes glazed out, lids closing as her grip tightened, her body shooting up rigidly as her breath stopped.

Oh yes, that was it. Even Morgan could see. The feel of Su's dark magic filled the room, reassuring and comforting, like a warm blanket to Morgan's senses.

Ollivanders voice broke the moment, quiet as Su revelled in the moment. "A good wand, loyal, particularly good for… subtle magics. I fear for any that may harm who you care about, Miss Li." His eyes flicked over to Morgan, she just gave him a smile, quirking the corners of her lips. _That's right_ , it said, _she's mine and you know it, don't you?_

She knew about wands, knew that they were mere reflections of their owners, and she was pleased. Really, her loyalty wasn't even hard won, but, well…

That's what you get when you treat people like muggleborns were treated.

Whatever his thoughts, he kept them to himself.

Su let out a shaky low moan as the tension left her body, almost looking like she was about to fall from weak knees. Morgan noticed that her hand never gave up the tight-fisted grip, her tanned hand pale with pressure.

"Now then, Miss…"

"Fay, Morgan Fay" she said. She felt a little like James Bond, it was a fun little way to introduce herself, a small reminder.

Ollivander's eyes widened, before sharpening, staring into her eyes as they watched each other.

Morgan stood, walking up to him. "Well? I do believe I'm here for a wand, Mr Ollivander" she said, with a quirk of her eyebrow, never once backing down from the state-off.

He seemed to come back to himself. "Ah, yes, Miss… Fay. Just a moment."

He disappeared into the back of the shop, reappearing with an armful of boxes. "I suspect we shall be here a while, Miss Fay." With one hand, he presented her a wand box, not naming the properties of the wand within.

Morgan didn't ask. Ripping off the lid, she grabbed the wand, feeling it meld with her power, only for her to throw it back into the box.

It was wrong… Inharmonic was the only word for it. The wand just didn't resonate with her.

"And why is that?" She asked, voice level and unconcerned. As though she would mind taking a while. She had waited years, she could wait a little longer.

Ollivander watched her, eyes assessing as she tried another wand. " Most children are… Simple, for lack of a better word. They need only try a few wands before a match is found, aside from curious cases like Miss Li here." He nodded his head to Su, still looking rather out of it.

"Oh? And you think I will be different?" she asked, as she rejected another wand.

"You are no ordinary child, Miss Fay."

Morgan let out a startled laugh. "Oh bravo, Mr Ollivander. I expected perceptiveness off you, how good of you to not let me down."

How amusing today was turning out to be. Ollivander wouldn't know exactly what she was, but he could sense something off about her.

It was all rather exciting, to see the frown upon his face, the pursing of his lips as he watched her. To see him so close but so far.

"You wouldn't happen to have used a wand before, would you?"

Morgan raised an eyebrow. Well, she didn't see how it could hurt, so with a quick movement she withdrew the ash wand, throwing it to him. "I can't really use it though, so I'm afraid you'll have to look elsewhere for whatever you're looking for."

"Hmm, an interesting combination. The capriciousness of the leprechaun hair somewhat offsets the ash's tendency to lose power when passed on…" His eyes lit with curiosity and with a flick, flowers burst from the tip. "Terrible workmanship, however. And rather useless for most…"

Useless? Well, she could get behind that. Apparition was a magic that only barely relied on a wand, advanced users had no need of one, and that was all she could do with it.

"Oh? I had wondered why I could barely get it to work."

"Yes, yes" he said. "Leprechaun hair is excellent for conjuration, but refuses to perform even the most basic of any other branch of transfiguration. Outside of rather specialist uses, it's a poor choice for a wand."

Hmm, well Morgan couldn't deny that she was interested, but she had other things occupying her attention.

Another wand was rejected, though it seemed close…

"I think I'm beginning to understand what wand you may need, Miss Fay. Very unusual, if so…" And with that, he once again disappeared into the back, emerging with more wands. "Aspen, unicorn hair" he said, handing her the wand.

Morgan frowned. It was close, but not there yet….

"Aspen, Phoenix feather" he said, handing her the next wand.

This… this worked. Her body was infused with warmth, her cheeks flushed and lights shot from the tip. It was an almost perfect match…

But only almost. There was something off about it…

This… If she was still the same person from her second life, this would have been perfect. Life and ambition, all tied into one wand.

And that meant it was a wand for great fools. Fool she may be, but she was not at that level anymore.

She threw it away in disgust, reminded of something unpleasant. The person she was was an idiot, a fool only slightly better than her original self, and it disgusted her.

Ollivander watched with querying eyes. "The wand chooses the witch, Miss Fay."

"And the witch chooses the wand" she hit back, "A relationship is a two way street, and I will not be the partner of a wand made for the naive and foolish."

"I see" he said. But did he? What would ue know about the true realities of life, holed up in his comfortable little shop. He was a useless fool just like the rest of them.

The look in his eyes only made her angrier.

"Well then, perhaps another time" he said, putting the wand away. "I think I know the wand you need, Miss Fay. Aspen wood, highly unusual, for a certain."

"Unusual how?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I can count on one hand the number of children your age that have been accepted by Aspen wands, across the entirety of Europe. They require a concrete ambition and more… It's not enough to just have ambition, you must also be aware of the challenges of achieving it, as well as absolute certainty that you can still achieve said ambition. And it must be more, more than normal ambition… It must be great" he finished, his voice hushed as his eyes took her in. "Yes, most children simply aren't old enough to envision such a thing."

Well then, such a wand should be perfect for her. If ruling the world wasn't great, then nothing was.

Ollivander handed her a slim black box, watching her passively. Ripping off the lid, Morgan beheld a slim wand, the colour of fine China, sitting upon a bed of black silk.

This moment felt… momentous. This was it, the wand she would choose, she could feel it deep within her bones, a resonance of mind and magic as a yearning to grasp the fine wood rose within her.

"Aspen, 11 inches" started Ollivander, distracting slightly. "Rigid and with a core of thestral hair. A complex wand…"

"Thestral hair? I was rather under the impression you stuck to your so-called supreme cores."

"I'm am, foremost, a researcher. It is my ambition to seek out ever greater materials. And don't be put off, thestral hair is just as good as Phoenix feather or Unicorn hair, but I don't often use it. Again, most won't ever be compatible with it. How curious…"

Morgan was getting tired of prompting him, so she just raised an eyebrow, giving him an inpatient look.

"You see, thestral hair, though excellent, will only ever choose those with an… unusual relationship with death. Seen death, caused death, survived death… Yes, most curious indeed Miss Fay… Well, give it a wave" he said, excitement glimmering in his eyes.

The air felt heavy as she beheld the wand, anticipation tingling her senses. Reaching out a slim hand, she grabbed the wand.

And moaned, rather embarrassingly. Her magic filled the room, blanketing it as it merged with the wand, with the power of the wood. Her brain was caught in a washed out bliss, revelling in the connection to the wand, deepening and widening as they resonated with each other.

If the wand had an awareness, it was currently rummaging through her mind, seeking out her ambitions and dreams, her motivations and failures, and it liked what it saw, giving itself to her completely, a blinding orange flash lighting the room as the temperature shot up.

She came back to herself as Ollivander was talking. "The wood from a tree that was the sole survivor of a ravenous forest fire and the core from a tail of a regal, ruling thestral. My, I believe you shall do great things Miss Fay. Yes, great things indeed…"

 _Terrible, but great._ The words echoed in her mind, words from long ago, heard and read. Yes, she would be great, for better or worse.

"Lumos" she whispered, and the wand lit up, taking her magic and shaping it into something more complex, something that took her a long time to learn wandlessly. Yet it performed the spell so easily…

The pale light shined upon her face, illuminating even the dim corners of the room. "You have my thanks, Ollivander. Great, you say? I did say you were perceptive." With a quick nox, she turned to Su. "Well then Su, let's pay up and go, we hav-" she cut herself off as she noticed the state Su was in, gazing at Morgan with lidded eyes.

From barely an inch away.

Weird.

Well, it was fine. She could figure it out later. Paying Ollivander, she dragged Su outdoors, ignoring his eyes following them all the way.

They had work to do. School was but a month away, after all.


	8. Chapter 8

The snow globe sat upon its bed of cloth, taunting her with its lack of movement, the waving Santa making a fool of her. On the opposite side of the library table, Su's snow globe rose obediently into the sky, wobbling slightly before dropping upon its own bed of cloth; it was at least more than she had achieved.

With a resolute frown, she pointed her wand at the globe. " _Wingardium Leviosa_ " she said and with careful movements, she tried the spell. But the globe remained where it was once again.

It felt like her wand was sneering at her, as best a stick of wood could, anyway. "And what is your problem?" she muttered. "I can do this wandlessly, why not with you, I wonder."

Reaching out her hand, palm down, she twisted her power, bringing the globe rising into her palm as the flakes within swirled gently. She was getting rather frustrated, honestly. It wasn't that she couldn't perform the spell, it was that her wand refused to perform it.

"You can use mine, if you want" came Su's voice, presenting her wand to Morgan. She looked rather reluctant, hand clasped tightly around the wand, but she was still offering.

"That's sweet of you, but I rather believe I need to figure out how to use this one. If it would merely stop looking down its nose at me...:" she said, casting a dubious glare at the pale stick of wood.

She tried again, this time spending a large amount of time merely sketching out the wand movements, the swish and flick, carefully ensuring that both movements and pronunciation were absolutely perfect; with a wobble, the globe rose up, not a single flake disturbed by its rise.

Her wand felt… grudging, as though what she had just done was only barely acceptable as it twisted her power, performing a lot of legwork for the spell by itself, controlling the magic and adding its own, making the spell far easier; with an accidental twitch of her wrist, the globe fell.

So that was the problem… "I guess you'll only accept perfection, hmm? Well, not an insurmountable obstacle, but still rather… annoying." How had Ollivander described it? Ah yes, a 'regal, ruling thestral.' Well, it was certainly living up to that. Such pride...

Across from her, she saw Su give a little shiver, eyes fixed upon her. That was… still strange. Maria had quite the explanation, of her magic feeling 'enchanting and seductive' especially to someone as dark and loyal as Su was. And since magic was a reflection of the person…

 _I can't... You don't even see it, do you? You prostituted yourself out for my loyalty, Morgan. And look at Su. Trust me, you're good at persuading people_ Maria had said, when Morgan had questioned it. Really, did she have to put it so bluntly? Come now, surely there were less vulgar ways of putting it.

Speaking of which… The doors to the library opened, revealing a rather dishevelled Maria, her top and skirt torn and burnt slightly, hair a mess and looking rather tired.

Su, she noticed, had started pouting, turning her head away abruptly as Maria entered. Really, she could still be such a child. She couldn't figure out why, for the life of her, Su sometimes couldn't get along with Maria. Often they would talk happily with each other, other times Su became like this.

With a sigh, Maria slumped down next to her, head resting upon her arms as she relaxed.

"And what happened to you?" Morgan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Bit off more than I could chew, apparently" she said, sighing.

Morgan's eye twitched. "Oh Maria, thank you for such a… comprehensive answer. it answered so many questions." Then she waited.

Maria quickly folded. "I tried to imperio another person. It… didn't go well. Seems my limit is just one person. I managed to get our dealer back under control, he wasn't very happy when he was aware…"

"Hmm, well done Maria. I hadn't thought of that. Is that a limit of the spell or just you, do you think?" She hadn't thought of that, of whether their was a limit upon the number you could control. It was a small reminder, that she shouldn't get too confident.

Maria frowned, face contemplative. "I think... Maybe, someone might be able to control more than one person, but it won't be easy. It's beyond me, anyway."

Morgan wasn't sure how she felt about that. On one hand, it drastically reduced the usefulness of the spell, but on the other, it prevented the incompetent from gaining too much power. Just the thought of one fool holding control over large groups of people sent her lips twisting, a grimace marring her face.

"Ah, and who did you try it on? Nobody important, I hope?"

Maria shrugged, completely nonchalant as she said "Just some junkie. I don't think they even noticed, as out of it as they were."

Morgan's eyes took in her demeanor and began shimmer fiendishly. "And here I was, thinking you hated that spell. Imperio another person of your own initiative? Oh, how times have changed." A wicked smile curved her lips, her words jabbing the sudden weakness, a familiar rush buzzing through her when she was reminded if the power she held over this girl.

"It's a… powerful spell" Maria muttered, turning away, hiding behind a curtain of hair. Her hands gripped the table edge tightly, wood creaking beneath the heavy grip as she avoided Morgan's suddenly wicked smile.

Oh, dearest Maria, how far you have fallen. Morgan remembered the reluctance she had when she first ordered her to imperio their little potion brewer. Hmm, she never did ask what his name was, did she? Oh well, it hardly mattered.

"Oh? Is that all it is? Are you sure it doesn't have anything to do with the recent darkness to your magic? I wonder, have you started to enjoy it, the way he does everything you command…" Dark magic always, it seemed, had an underlying 'scent' of saltwater to it. It may be overlaid by different aspects depending on the person, but the salt was a constant. Maria's aura, once a rather floral scent, now had that underlying ocean smell, lapping at the senses, gentler than Su's.

Morgan thought it was rather nice.

Morgan loved this, in all honesty. Watching Maria slowly fall deeper into her influence, watching her actions become more twisted thanks to her own words… She could see why her magic turned the way it was. Manipulating Maria to her will was something she took great joy in, as she did molding Su into her image.

Maria shot up, back ramrod straight as her eyes sought Morgan's frantically. "I haven't!" she blurted and for just a moment there was a look of terrible helplessness within her eyes.

Oh Maria, you feel it, don't you? The joy at such power, at the way their little dealer bent to her every demand… Morgan could well understand.

"Enough about that" Maria said suddenly, turning the conversation. Turning, she fixed Morgan with a look that sent shivers down her spine, a smirk showing that she knew just how she was being affected by it. One hand was placed on Morgans leg, sliding gently up and down her bare skin. "I used a lot of magic today. I could use a refresher before the meeting tonight. Who knows what could happen, after all…" she whispered, leaning in, voice husky and filled with _promises_...

It appeared Maria wasn't the only one being corrupted by the other. The flash of joy in Maria's eyes as Morgan's breath hitched confirmed how much she was enjoying this, this small power she held over her.

If Morgan was going to push her about the imperio, then she would respond with this, both a distraction and a way to regain some sense of superiority, of control. She was falling - no, had fallen - and Morgan could see this was just an attempt to feel better.

Well, that was fine, she could have her small victories if it made her feel better, it didn't change that Morgan was the one in control, not Maria. And she rather liked it…

She was distracted by a sudden banging sound from Su's side of the table, her snow lobe having slammed into its cloth bed. "I want to go for some ice-cream" said Su, eyes meeting Morgan's, face scrunched up adorably.

At this time? The light streaming in from the window was the pale gray of early morning, far too early for something like ice-cream. Ugh, children, they could be so troublesome at times.

"It's a little early for ice-cream, don't you think Su?" Especially as Maria's delightful magic pressed against her, reminding her of the bedroom they had set up just down the hallway…

In response, Su's eyes widened, lips pouting as her eyes became slightly watery. "Please?"

Morgans eye twitched under Su's onslaught, that look piercing her. Honestly, did she want ice-cream that much, to look like she was almost going to cry over it? It was baffling, but it was the sort of thing children did. Denying them sweets was a sure-fire way to make any child upset.

"Why don't we go later?" she offered.

Su deflated, looking like Morgan had just told her Santa wasn't real. "That means no, doesn't it?" she mumbled, somehow projecting the words of entire generations of children. But Morgan remained unfazed, and Su's expression abruptly cleared, eyes narrowing.

It was good to see she was mature enough to not get too upse-

"You're just being lazy, Morgan" said Su, laying her head on her arms.

Morgans thoughts stuttered to a halt. Lazy? Lazy! Why, it seemed she had been slacking in her tutoring of this little brat. Had she not seen the hours she'd spent mastering her power? The time she had invested into teaching her? Oh, she-

 _You're just being lazy, Claire_. Words from long ago whispered through her thoughts, her grip tightening on her white wand. God, had it really been so long? Years and years, and the memories only got dimmer and dimmer…

And suddenly, her blinding rage was slipping through her grasp. Well, that was for the best. To be so riled up just from being called lazy, was she this thin-skinned? Well…

"Very well then Su, come on. I'll apparate us over… The mood is ruined anyway." She may as well, it wasn't like she was expecting much to happen tonight anyway. Maria would be fine.

Su's eyes flashed, lips curling into a smile as she hurriedly stood. She sent a grin at Maria as she grabbed her hand.

Maria just sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

* * *

New London, where wizarding society overtook muggle. The smooth poured roads of muggles replaced with smooth, perfectly connected cobblestone roads, so well made a person could drive down them with no bumps. Streetlights were replaced by Victorian style iron posts, painted black and shining an orange light upon the streets. And the houses were all fully detached, with large gardens and beautiful, Victorian architecture.

Slowly, the muggle world was being replaced by the wizarding one as more construction was rolled out throughout the country, led by one Arthur Weasley, funnily enough.

It was in a pub within this area that they were meeting up with someone. The main room was large and busy, a bar sitting against the back wall, shelves glistening with coloured glass bottles as the bartender chatted with customers.

In one of the booths around the walls of the venue, Morgan and Maria sat across from a girl. She was twitchy and nervous, her blue eyes shooting all around the place, blonde hair stringy and unhealthy, much like her clothes, just showing beneath a plain black cloak.

And she was thin, frightfully so. Her cheekbones were prominent in her gaunt face, her fingers, curled around a glass bottle, thin with dirty nails. She cut a wretched, pitiful sight against the pleasant atmosphere of the pub.

"You- you didn't say there would be someone else here" the girl said, casting nervous, dubious looks at Morgan, tightly clutching her bottle to herself like a lifeline.

"You're free to leave whenever you want" said Maria, eyebrow raised. Seeing that the girl said nothing, she continued. "My boss wanted to meet you."

Morgan watched as the girl eyed her, disbelieving. It was an amusing reaction, to see someone so stunned.

"B-but she's just a kid… No, no, there's no way. You must be older, right? One of those that drunk too much Youth potion, right?"

Morgan hummed. "Fay, Morgan Fay" she started. "And no, I haven't even started schooling yet."

Ah, the girl clearly wasn't expecting that, if the way she was gawking at her was any indication.

"That-that" she stuttered, disbelieving, before shaking her head, taking a sip from her bottle. "And- and why did you want to meet me?" she asked, eyes filled with distrust, body ready to flee at the drop of a penny, her body as taught as a bowstring.

Moran smiled, eyes glinting. "First, why don't you tell me what you've found out."

She became, if it were possible, even more wary. "That's not how this works. I-I want the rose first, then I'll tell you." There was a desperate yearning to her voice, a note of sheer desire. Morgan had no doubts that if she demanded it, she'd be able to get the information first, but it wasn't necessary.

"Very well" she said, nodding to Maria, who promptly reached into her own cloak, bringing out a nondescript bottle, small and filled with clear liquid, sliding it across the table.

It was quickly grabbed up, the girl looking around nervously at the other patrons of the bar. Rather pointless, really. A subtle notice-me-not, as well as a muffliato kept anyone from paying them any attention. Even Maria's clothes were unflattering, made to avoid drawing attention. Unlikely as it was, it was still better to be safe than sorry. If someone connected Maria to a Morrigan, well…

And the pub was chosen specifically for the reason that it was usually busy and loud. Even without the Muffliato, it would be difficult to overhear them.

Opening it, she dropped a few drops of the liquid into her bottle, followed by drinking it greedily. Almost immediately, her body relaxed a little, no longer as taught or wary, her nervous fidgets practically gone as previously unseen strength entered her eyes. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before meeting Morgans, almost a different person.

The rose, a highly addictive drug made from some beautiful purple roses, and very illegal. It didn't offer any highs or euphoria, in fact it didn't have any effect really.

It was just addictive, dangerously so, and often mixed in with other drugs to keep them hooked. Or even other things, from lipstick to food, a person would soon find themselves desperately addicted to whatever the drug was added to, mistaking the source of their addiction for, say, the spiked food rather than the drug itself. The withdrawal effects were... unpleasant. Paranoia, nerves, a desperate need for more...

"Feeling better, Miss Clearwater?" Morgan asked, a teasing smile on her lips as Penelope flinched, her paranoia not completely gone even with a taste of the drug. "Good, then on to business. Tell me everything."

"There's not much to say really. She's… difficult to track." Unlike before, her voice was now much stronger, the pressing need to acquire her drug gone, her thoughts clear again. "It's frustrating, she's ridiculously paranoid and without a wand I can't follow her much without danger of being spotted" she said, a note of annoyance colouring her tone.

That bottle was not exactly cheap to produce, she could have made a lot of money from that, so the girl had better have found more than that, else she would start getting rather… upset.

As though sensing her thoughts, she stumbled over her next words in her haste to get them out. "B-but i did find something. Every day, without fail, she eats at a restaurant near Diagon Alley, the Roasted Boar."

Ah, now that was something she could use. Perhaps that bottle was worth it….

"Not bad... Well, Miss Clearwater, let's move onto my next business." Slowly, so as not to scare the girl, she pulled out the ash wand, laying it in front of Penelope, who had startled when she saw the wand. "I find myself no longer in need of this, so I'm giving it to you."

Penelope gaped at the wand, mouth flapping like a fish as her fingers reached out for the wand. But, with a flinch, she pulled back, glaring at her with eyes filled with suspicion. "And what's the catch? There's no way you'd just give me a wand, I'm not even allowed one" she spat out.

Oh, the poor thing, is that what they had told her? That she wasn't even allowed a wand anymore? Morgan's eyes glittered as a smile spread across her face. Yes, this wouldn't even be difficult.

"You are allowed a wand" she said, relishing the surprise in Penelope's blue eyes. "Did they tell you that you couldn't own one anymore? Tell me, who said such a thing? Could it have been some Pureblood, out to deprive you?"

Ah, and now her eyes were filled with anger, warring with her suspicious instincts. "If that's true, then why wouldn't anyone sell me a wand? Not even the shittiest wand makers would" she said, bitter.

"Because they're not allowed. It's against the law to sell to those that have no owls and aren't in education" Morgan shrugged. "And those that would… Well, as one, ah, mudblood to another, discrimination is everywhere, no?"

Penelope glared at her, struggling. But, eventually, Morgan could see her begin to believe her, if only slightly. "That still doesn't tell me what the catch is."

"No catch" she said. "You can take the wand and leave right now, if you want. I only want to… build a good relationship between us. You scratch my back, I scratch yours, as it were." Indeed, as suspicious and untrusting as Penelope was, the only way to ever gain her favour would be to not restrict her.

"Why the fuck would you want that?"

"Because unlike the purebloods out there, Miss Clearwater, I believe you have worth, worth much higher than that of most purebloods out there." Ah, now she was getting somewhere. "Even without a wand, you discovered what you did. I thought you were bluffing when you said you could do it, to be clear, but I find myself… pleasantly surprised." She leaned forward, passionate orange eyes drilling into Penelope's wavering ones, seeing the deep desire within them. "You were accepted into Hogwarts, something only the best of us 'mudbloods' can ever achieve. You survived Azkaban. Many go mad or lose their powers or any number of other things, but you…" She reached out, slim finger gently tilting Penelope's chin, leaning in so they were practically breathing on each other. "You are a diamond, Miss Clearwater, despite what others may have said; _I want you_."

She could see the effect her words were having. Ah, purebloods, they had no idea of the danger they were creating, the weapons they were carelessly tossing aside, just waiting for someone like her to pick up. Treat a person like trash for their entire lives and, well… A few words could be all that was needed.

Sitting back, she crossed her legs as she observed the fight going on in Penelope, eventually culminating in her picking up the wand. "And- and I can leave whenever, right?"

"Oh, indeed. In fact, you don't even have to decide tonight. We can meet later, if you want. As an added incentive, however… I've just recently been accepted to Hogwarts." That got a reaction, a shock travelling through her body. "I can easily get you access to books from their library. The greatest library in Europe, according to some. I can even have Maria here teach you some magic - you only finished up to your third year, right? - and you may even be able to complete your OWL's."

They sat for a while, her and Maria just watching as Penelope gazed at the wand in her hand, eyes flicking back between it and them. This was an opportunity, to grasp the lifeline offered to her and pull her from the abyss, she just needed to reach out and grasp the hand offered.

And she was only 15. The world may have hardened her up a little, but no 15 year-old could keep taking such hardships alone, not when a helping hand was so willingly offered. Beneath the surface, there was a desperate yearning for acceptance, for help, for affection. Morgan had no doubt what she would eventually choose.

It almost made her feel pity for the girl. In another world, she would have become a Prefect and eventually Head Girl. But that world was gone now, allowed to wither away by useless wizards.

But that wouldn't stop her from squeezing every ounce of use out of her that she could.

"You, are you going to kill her?" she asked, looking down at the table.

A victorious grin flashed onto Morgans face, unseen by Penelope. "Oh, Miss Clearwater" she said, once again pulling her face up by the chin.

"I'm going to do much worse."

Yes, Morgan was never in any doubt about what choice the girl would take.


	9. Chapter 9

There were many offshoots to the main street of Diagon Alley, from the low-end Knockturn to the upper-class Professional Alley. It was on one of these, a mere couple minutes walk from Diagon, that the Roasted Boar was located. An expensive restaurant, catering to only those that could afford its exorbitant prices. Any customer could expect to pay at least two galleons a day for the privilege of eating there.

For Rita Skeeter, this price was easily affordable. She even had her own table, situated next to a second floor window, overlooking the quiet streets. At this time in the evening, most stores were closed and foot traffic was small, a few people coming and going from the building, warm light illuminating them.

"How… salacious" she said, eyes gleaming behind her slim glass frames, the rhinestone studded frame glinting in the clear light of the Roasted Boar, the golden chandeliers providing excellent light. In front of her was a picture, of one Marathus Selwyn, head of the Selwyn family, heading into what could only be a brothel. "What would his wife think, if she knew of her husband's habits?"

She looked up at the man sitting across from her, his rather dim looking face out of place in the upper-class atmosphere. "I'm surprised, Bozo, it's unlike you to take your own initiative." She took a sip of her wine as she considered him, almost able to taste the galleons this particular vintage cost - the taste of high society.

He turned to the right, looking out the window and onto the street below. "Yeah, well… Bastard stole the girl I liked" he grunted, uncomfortable. With his short, patchy brown hair and pudgy face, she didn't find it too surprising he didn't score the girl he wanted.

Her face turned inquisitive, eyes shining with curiosity. "Ooh, the motive of revenge, is it? Was your heart broken, your girl stolen from you? Was ther-"

"You're doing it again" he said, rolling his eyes at her.

So she was, but he couldn't just dangle something like this in front of her and not expect her to bite. Her photographer could be so closed off at times…

Moving on, she turned back to the picture. "How could I spin this…. A forbidden love between a high-class man and a prostitute? Would need some better pictures, but doable… Trouble in the Selwyn marriage, wife perhaps not satisfying him?" She reached into her handbag, taking out her faithful acid-green quill, specially made. "Or perhaps…" she muttered, eyes distant. "Perhaps he might wish for this to be kept quiet, it would ruin his marriage after all. What do you think, Bozo?"

He contemplated for a while. "I think he would want this kept quiet, but I'm not sure how far you could push him. He's a prideful bastard, might take the scandal just to deny you."

Problematic. She would have to personally investigate to try and find the best angle. To use it as another step in raising her figure - already gaining a reputation for exposing the deep, dark secrets people held - or use it for potential blackmail.

Blackmailing him could be dangerous, but the Selwyn's didn't have a particularly dark reputation, so she should be fine.

"Hm? What's wrong?" she asked, seeing Bozo frowning out the window.

"No, it's probably nothing. Just thought I saw something on the building across the street."

Rita's looked out the window, examining the opposite building with a clinical eye, but she didn't see anything. Still, you could never be too careful, she had angered a lot of people in her path to success.

"I doubt anyone would try anything in a public location like this. It was probably a bird or something" she said, flicking her hand dismissively, blonde curls bouncing as she turned back to Bozo.

And if something did happen, she had her emergency portkey. It had cost her a pretty penny, but it was worth it. As long as she didn't feel an anti-portkey charm surround the area, she was safe. It would take her barely a second to activate it.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Just, be careful. There's a lot of people out there that would love to see you burn. You don't exactly have many friends."

She had none, actually. Merely another cost on the path to success and one of the reasons she was so careful. If some of her own secrets came to light and with all the people she had stepped on and still planned on stepping on, she would find her head spinning from how fast she'd be tossed in Azkaban.

And despite his worries, she was unconcerned. She had her portkey, she apparated whenever she could - it was a shame you couldn't apparate into or out of an Alley except at special points - and her house was heavily charmed against intruders or attackers. The goblins had charged her an exorbitant amount, but it was worth it.

She stayed within the restaurant for a while more, enjoying the perfectly cooked food and wine. Her quill was constantly scribbling, ideas being created and crossed out. Every angle needed to be considered, from the risks to the rewards. Would publicly embarrassing Marathus be worth his enmity? All such things had to be carefully considered before taking any action.

She had not come as far as she had from being careless. Some people were just too dangerous to attack and a single slip could see all her hard work scattered.

But, as the taste of wine stained her tongue, she knew the risk was worth it, to be able to live at the height of society, to experience the luxuries most could only dream of. From her expensive, jewel studded glasses to her opulent mansion, all the finer things in life were worth what she was risking.

Walking down the street after leaving, she stumbled as someone bumped into her. "Tch. Watch where you're going, would you?" she spat, glaring at the cloaked, broad shouldered figure as they mumbled illegible apologies, continuing to hurry along. Merlin, but she hated the common rabble.

She sneered, continuing on to an apparition point in Diagon Alley, only a couple minutes away.

For a moment, confusion seized her. Which way was it? The street continued on, but no, that wasn't the way, was it? Her mind felt like it was mired in fog, struggling to comprehend the path she had taken hundreds of times before.

Ah, that was the way. Just like that, she shook of the confusion that was plaguing her - maybe she had too much wine - and turning, she headed into an alley between two tall buildings. Diagon Alley was just down here and... and...

She was a good way into the alley when her mind returned to clarity, hair standing on end as an almost cold shock hit her, the realisation of her situation setting her nerves alight and her heart thumping in her ears..

She didn't hesitate. "Skeeter Manor!" she exclaimed, almost tumbling over the words. Adrenaline buzzed through her as nothing happened, the static feeling of magic humming around her. An anti-portkey charm. She'd walked right into one and not noticed, the confusion masking it. A confusion charm, it must have been.

In a flash, her wand was in her hand. She needed to get out of this dark alley. They couldn't have charmed the entire street, people would notice, if she could just get out before...

The entrance was blocked, the cloaked figure she had bumped into earlier blocking her path. Her thoughts were rapidly flashing, thoughts of who, why, _who!_

But those could wait for later. She needed to get out, now. Raising her wand, she prepared to cast her spell, but she was too late, the figure - a man, she could now see, blonde hair hidden beneath his cloaks hood - shot a bolt of blue light at her.

It crashed against her shield charm, blue sparks erupting as a pressure wave knocked her further back into the alley, her hasty charm breaking before the spells strength with the sound of shattering glass. She managed to stay on her feet, but more spells were already flying her way.

"Shit!" she shrieked, another, stronger shield charm erupting from her wand, blocking the alley with its blue glow as spells impacted it, barely holding up to the onslaught as her concentration kept the shield together, panic lending her the strength to hold off the attacker.

That first spell, if that had hit her, she'd-

She fled deeper into the alley, the cobblestones beneath her feet liquefying as she worked her magic, a stone gargoyle leaping up and flying towards the attacker behind her. Why did she choose today of all days to wear heels?

There was another figure ahead of her, a tall female if she had to guess, and she didn't hesitate. The disintegration curse flew from her wand tip, purple bolt striking the figure, shattering the woman like glass as Rita breathed in relief. But then a thought struck her. Like glass? That was-

She cursed as the female once again appeared just in front of her, disillusionment charm falling away as a red jet shot towards her, quickly slapped away by her own wand, the spell hitting the brick wall and scorching it black; it was immediately followed by another. Behind her she heard a shattering sound of exploding rock as her gargoyle was destroyed.

Her hand was trembling, fear shooting through her. She didn't have long, she had to kill this woman before she was ganged u-

Her scalp tingled. She didn't have much talent for sensing magic, but she could just make out the spell flying at her from above. Another one! How many were there?! Spinning her wand, she became entombed in concrete, the conjured rock cracking as spells crashed against it. With another slash the rock started bubbling, shapes forming from the now alive barrier, hands clawing from the grey stone, wings sprouting and horrific screeches beginning to wail from concrete throats.

But she was too late and the conjured barrier suddenly exploded before she could finish the transfigurations, rock shrapnel bouncing off of her as she cried out, knocking her to the ground, the shards of concrete having lacerated numerous shallow cuts into her.

Quickly looking around, she spotted the man and woman coming towards her, the tell tale light-red glow of stunning spells impacting her reflexively cast spherical shield charm. And there was another above, but she didn't have time to check.

She'd twisted her foot, the right heel having snapped off, so running was no longer an option. She had no choice then. When she got out of this, she was going to bring the entire ministry down on these scumbags heads. She was Rita Skeeter! She did not come so far to fail now!

She shut her eyes, a blinding flash of light erupting from her wand, hopefully blinding her attackers. This was a risk, if they saw what she was about to do...

With another wave of her wand, the rock debris, created from her now destroyed barrier, morphed into hundreds of bugs, the buzzing cacophony of a horde of insects filling the alley, echoing off the walls and hidden by these, she quickly began her transformation, shifting into her beetle form, but not before she saw a blue star of magic shooting down towards the insect horde from the rooftop.

Fear gripped her heart, mind screaming in helplessness. She couldn't stop the shift, not without serious damage, and-

She was a beetle, quickly flying away as fast as she could, but with a blinding flash of light, she found herself immobile, along with all the other bugs, floating in the air and completely helpless.

No no no no no! This couldn't be happening! No one knew her animagus form! It was almost like they were waiting for her to use it! It wasn't possible, it wasn't-

Her thoughts rapidly descended into incoherence as panic gripped her, only regaining control when she saw movement from her attackers. Perhaps... Perhaps they didn't know. It was her only hope and she clung to it fiercely, trapped hanging in the air. She was careful, their simply wasn't any way for someone to know of her animagus form.

Footsteps, echoing from the alleyway as they grew closer. The two attackers merely waited as a small figure walked into view.

"Hmm, well done Maria, Penelope" the now revealed female said, waving to the rooftop above. "Now, lets see if we managed to catch us a fly, shall we?" Raising her hand, the girl said " _Lumos_ ", pale light spilling from a white wand.

She knew. The thought filled her mind, drowning out all else. It wasn't possible, but it was happening. Who!? How!?

She watched in sheer terror as the small figure reached out to a nearby bug, the fly erupting into flames between her fingers, the faint light of the Lumos revealing a young face to Rita, someone she was sure she had never met before. Her clothes seemed high-class, the short skirt and red blouse speaking of quality; it was not a calming realisation.

It couldn't be a child, more likely someone who drunk too much Youth potion, but even still she didn't recognise the girl, nor even anyone who looked similar to her.

"Look for a beetle, with markings around the eyes in the shape of glasses."

Rita could only watch as one by one bugs were burnt up, until the girl fixed her with a fiery stare, a sharp smile on her face, destroying any hope she might have had.

"Hello, Miss Skeeter" she said, reaching towards her, her voice filled with a vicious, victorious tone. With a dim spark, the space between her thumb and finger lit, a small stream of electricity filling the gap, getting brighter and brighter as it drew closer.

No no no! She shifted back, hoping she could surprise them, but before she could so much as lift her wand a white jet of light slammed her into the wall, breath exploding from her, eyes bulging as they tracked her wand flying into the woman's hand. And then, before she could move, ropes shot down from above, binding her so tightly she could barely breath as she writhed on the floor, glasses cracking slightly.

She tried screaming, for help or to curse, she didn't know, but it was useless. No sound emerged from her throat.

The girl turned to her companions. "Strip her naked, I don't want any hidden portkeys getting past you, then stun her and take her back."

Rita could only watch with a sort of stunned horror as her clothes and jewellery were shredded and taken, the enchanted ring pulled from her finger, the portkey now beyond her grasp. With a flash of red light, her consciousness was slain.

Her last thought was a wish that she had taken Bozo more seriously.


	10. Chapter 10

"Wakey, wakey, Miss Skeeter."

Bound to the armchair by the fireplace, ropes digging into her naked skin, Rita just continued to silently doze off, the effects of the stunner still subduing her.

How disrespectful. Reaching forward, Morgan gently cupped her face, smiling gently. Then, her eyes glinted, shining with the hate usually so deeply hidden, but brought to the surface when the opportunity to express it arrived.

"I said, wake up."

Rita jerked, eyes blaring wide as her body stiffened, Morgan's magic flooding her body with pain from the touch of her warm fingers. For a moment, Morgan watched with open amusement as Rita stopped breathing, the shock of pain overriding everything else.

And then the moment was over and she was leaning back into her own cushy armchair opposite, Rita gasping and shaking as she looked around confusedly.

Perhaps she should have felt some guilt for what she had just done, but, then again, this was Rita Skeeter, a woman whom had uplifted her own career to that of the most well-known and popular writer of the Prophet by attacking others.

Guilt? No.

She was loving this.

Morgan allowed Rita a moment to get her bearings, taking in the surrounding room. For a while, Morgan had thought of using the standard abandoned warehouse - it just felt more appropriate for the situation - but had eventually decided upon a comfortable room in an abandoned house.

"W-what? Wh-where am I?" she mumbled, still disoriented. But, as memories resurfaced, Rita's face twisted in anger, glaring at her with hate as she strained against the ropes. "You!" she spat, face thunderous behind her glasses.

"Glad to see you could finally join me, Miss Skeeter. I hope you're not too… uncomfortable" she said, a note of joy colouring her tone as she smirked at the furious woman. One leg crossed over the over as she sat comfortably into the chair's cushions, relaxing under Rita's anger.

"Do you know who I am!? Do you think you can get away with this!? When I get out of here, I'll destroy you, you filthy fucking deviant! You have no idea the power I wield, the people I know!" she screamed, her attempts to break the rope increasing. Her eyes were shining with such pure hate, Morgan wouldn't be surprised if she was trying to murder her with just a glare.

Morgan really wished she had a cigar, just so she could light it up and take a puff before saying the words "Illegal animagus." It would really add to the scene, especially as Rita stopped struggling, her face paling and goosebumps breaking out across her pale arms. Perhaps she should look around for some, just for moments like these.

"Oh my yes, Miss Skeeter. I know who you are."

Ah, and there was the horror, lurking beneath the surface. The sweat building on her forehead, the terror seeping into her expression as her eyes stilled, comprehending just how fucked she was.

Rita gulped. "H-how?" she stuttered.

"Oh, I hardly think that matters now. What matters is that I do know, Miss Skeeter."

But, of course, she wouldn't be Rita Skeeter if something like that was enough to put her down. With a clearly visible effort, she brought herself under control, sneering at Morgan with a thin veneer of calm. She clearly had some hope left, burning inside.

Morgan couldn't wait to snuff it out.

"So what? Who cares about that? All they can do is fine me for it." Her tone was dismissive, as though she were hoping to make Morgan believe her blackmail was worth much less than it was.

Such a fool she was. "Oh Miss Skeeter, you and I both know it's not about the power you have, but what you do with it. How many, I wonder, of your shocking scandals were discovered thanks to that power?"

That hit home, if the way Rita twitched was any judge, and Morgan chuckled at her.

Rita changed track. "Then you should know that I have a lot of information people wouldn't want public. Scandals, bribes, corruption... Do you really think I'd be successfully condemned? I'd spill every nasty little secret, bring them all down with me" she said, sneering. "Let me go now, and I'll forget this ever happened. Otherwise, I'll use every secret I've ever dug up to bring the entire system down on you."

It was almost cute, how she seemed to think Morgan would be taken in with such reasoning. "I think that's exactly why you'd be thrown into the deepest pit they can find. You're simply too dangerous, who knows what you might have eavesdropped on. You don't think you'd be allowed to speak, do you? It would be all too easy for a court to silence you, in fear of you betraying classified information in retaliation." Morgan's eyes glinted maliciously. "I doubt you're the first person to uncover such information."

And another fragile defense fell and the panic was starting to seep back in. What next Miss Skeeter?

"I- I have friend-"

"No you don't, you have only enemies of your own creation."

"You have no way of knowing that!" she blurted. "I- there are people all throughout the ministry that support me! One word, and they'll destroy you! I bet they're searching for me right now, and when they do, you'll be finished!"

Morgan just laughed mockingly, eyes twinkling with amusement. Really, if those friends existed, why did she sound so nervous? "Is that so? Then perhaps…" Reaching under a cushion, the cold gleam of black metal met Rita's eyes. "Perhaps I should kill you now. Wouldn't want you exposing me, now, would I?"

Slowly, the pistol was pressed against Rita's forehead, her face a rictus of fear as she felt the chill against her. Her head leaned back, until there was nowhere left to retreat, the barrel pressing her into the back cushion of the chair. "You're what, 35? You know what this is, don't you? With one small touch and…" She waited, relishing Rita's nervous swallows. "Bang!" she shouted, right into her ear.

Rita screamed, flinching back and shaking terribly.

Morgan sat back, laughing maliciously as Rita shook. "But I won't, Miss Skeeter. Let us cast aside the act, shall we? We both know that, from the moment you got caught an illegal animagus, you were finished. Oh, you can bluff all you want, but it doesn't change anything. You're mine now, Miss Skeeter."

Rita stared at her for a moment, furious, little shivers of fear still shaking her body. "And" she practically spit from gritted teeth."What do you want?" Although her voice sounded strong, there was an undercurrent of nerves, a slight trembling betraying how shaken she was.

Morgan smiled, all teeth glinting in the firelight. "Why, what do we all want? I want power, Miss Skeeter. As for you… I want you to be my bitch."

"And you think I'll just do whatever you want?" she growled. But her facade was breaking now, the fear closer to the surface.

For a person like Rita? Ha, no, she didn't expect her to just roll over due to some blackmail. In the end, she could register as an animagus - it would stop her from being able to use her ability to investigate, but she could - and then she would lose any hold she had over Rita.

"Maybe not" she mused. "But that's why I intend to bind you to me so tightly, to not obey me would be social suicide, even without considering your animagus form."

The fire crackled, throwing shadows flickering across Morgan's face, eyes glinting. Rita could only look at her blankly. "So a vow, then?" she said, almost casually. "What do you want me to say?

"Really, did you think I would fall for that? You're a high profile journalist that made her reputation for exposing things. You know occlumency, right?" Rita's face blanched. "So a vow is out of the question, you can just fake it and I would have no way of knowing. There's unbreakable vows, but would you really be completely willing?" No, she wouldn't. A person had to be completely willing and uncoerced in order for the dark binding to work. And it would only take effect after it was broken, so Rita could still betray her, though she'd die after.

It was a dilemma that Morgan had thought over for a while; how to ensure Rita's loyalty? There were also magically binding contracts, but she had no idea how to make them, or of their drawbacks. She just didn't know enough to trust them.

"No, Rita, I intend to use nothing more than simple, old-fashioned, blackmail, fear and pain." The small light of hope that had emerged in her eyes was blown away, faced with the prospect of a dim future as Morgan spoke. "The pain, I think, I'll allow a… friend to take care of. I think the fear will come naturally. But blackmail… Well, I just don't think I have enough yet. I said social suicide, remember?"

"So, what, do you not have enough? Is getting me thrown into Azkaban not enough for you?" Rita said, bitter.

"Oh, perhaps. But I like to be certain." So saying, she motioned to Penelope, standing out of sight behind Rita. Penelope never took her eyes off Rita as she handed the small vial to Morgan, her eyes brimming with pure hate.

She looked a lot better now, at least. A few charms had cleaned her up a little. Her stringy blonde hair was now clean and straight, her skin looked healthier and cleaner and even her clothes, thanks to funding from Morgan, were now much better. The old rags replaced with a navy blue skirt and top, with silver trimming. The colours of Ravenclaw, if she wasn't mistaken.

The vial in her hand was a bright pink and removing the glass stopper filled the air with a sweet scent. "I'm sure you're aware, being a journalist, of the sheer power of sex" she said, holding up the vial to Rita's eyes, the pink liquid shimmering as the fire flickered.

Rita paled, eyeing the bottle with an expression of pure fear. Morgan only smiled sweetly.

"Yes, how many people would pay to cover up their more… base actions? How many will fold at a simple glimpse of some cleavage, of the chance for a night with a beautiful woman? How much of the public would spurn someone if some simple actions were brought to light? Such a powerful tool…" As old as Morgan was on the inside, sex was something she found had lost its meaning. She loved the pleasure - she was actually rather frustrated about the loss of it once she entered Hogwarts - but she was no blushing teenager. It was just sex, and it was so useful...

She started to struggle against the ropes, unable to take her eyes off the vial. Penelope, meanwhile, took out a glass orb, able to record much like a muggle camera.

"No no no no no" Rita was mumbling as Morgan drew near. She seemed in shock, unable to believe this was happening.

"Weren't you listening? Social suicide, I said. You know how the public is, if they see a video of you, say, raping a small girl, then…" Then she would be ruined. The look of comprehension on Rita's face made these little dramatics all worth it. So much more fun than just forcing it down her when she was asleep.

"You, you freak. You're not a girl, just some pervert in a kids body! Do you think the public won't see through it! This video will be worthless!" she exclaimed, casting a tearful look at the orb in Penelope's hand.

Oh Rita. How close you were. Unfortunately, however, it wasn't due to drinking youth potion that she was as young as she was; all the public would see was a video of Rita sleeping with a clearly unwilling child. Even if she managed to prove she was drugged, it would be over for her. Simply because, she would be unable to prove Morgan wasn't a child, since she technically was.

Morgan grasped Rita by the jaw, holding her still even as she struggled, unable to move due to the ropes tying her to the armchair. Her fingers dug into the armchair and her mouth locked shut as tears slid down her cheeks. With a swift movement, the contents of the vial were poured down her throat, Penelope helping out with a quick spell to ensure her jaw opened and the contents were swallowed.

The effects were almost instantaneous. Rita's face flushed, her eyes fixing themselves upon Morgan, more specifically on her pale legs and the thighs showing from beneath her short skirt. Her bare nipples hardened and her body squirmed, the potion working its effects. Morgan had to admit, Rita was rather pretty in a strange way.

"Ah, love potions. I can hardly believe they're legal" Morgan mused. But Rita was no longer listening. Morgan had tried the potion herself and, well, saying it was hard to think beyond the need to fuck whoever the potion was targeted to would be an understatement. For once, she thought Maria was the one exhausted. "Don't be afraid to be rough, Miss Skeeter. I like it every now and then."

Motioning to Penelope, she waited while she cut the ropes, Penelope's face turning slightly. But, whatever her reservations, she was perfectly willing to help Morgan for her chance at revenge. Maria wasn't quite as enthusiastic about it, so she was spending the night elsewhere.

The ropes were cut, and Morgan was immediately pushed into the carpet by a frantic Rita, tearing at her clothes, tongue pushing between her lips.

Well then, time to put on a show. Eyes watering and voice quivering, she put on her act, that of an innocent child being abused.

With this video, Rita would be hers.

* * *

They must have been going for hours, it was well into early morning once Rita's drug fueled lust burned out, leaving her laying on the floor, her eyes blank as she stared into the shimmering flames.

Morgan shimmied into her clothes, nose wrinkling when she saw her torn underwear. Those had been expensive... Oh, of course, magic. She could have someone repair them.

"Well, Miss Skeeter, I must say that was much more enjoyable than I expected; almost like role play. You don't hold back, do you?"

Rita didn't respond, just laying there in her shame and disgust, hair mussed and her glasses long ago lost.

"Why..." she whispered, voice hoarse.

"Hmm?"

Rita finally showed some life, turning her head to look up at Morgan, eyes rapidly filling with tears. "Why me? Why this?" she sobbed. "Didn't you have enough? I'm an illegal animagus, wasn't that enough blackmail? I've worked for years to get where I am; I'd never throw everything away by registering. Y-you monster, how could you do this to me?" Her voice broke as she succumbed to heavy sobs.

Morgans eyes narrowed at the waste at her feet. "Monster, am I? You want to know how I can do this and feel no guilt? It's simple Miss Skeeter. It's because you are a far bigger monster than I."

Rita's sobbing stopped as she eyed her in disbelief. "I'm the monster!?" she shrieked. "I'm a reporter, not a rapist!"

"Oh, I'm not talking about that. You were already an adult when Voldemort killed the muggles, right?"

"What does that have to do with- with- this!"

"Everything" Morgan hissed, crouching down to Rita's level. "What did you do when the muggles were dying? Where were you? Hiding like a coward, as useless fucking Sorcerers are wont to do."

"This was about some fucking muggles!?"

Morgan's face darkened in anger. Reaching down, Rita was once again flooded with pain. She kept it up for a moment, before letting up. "Careful, Miss Skeeter… You expect me to feel sympathy for you? Guilt? The world has gone beyond that, 6 billion people lie dead because of useless fools like you! Morals? They no longer matter, because 6 billion people are dead! Oh yes, Miss Skeeter. I can do this and I can enjoy it, because there is nothing that I cannot excuse in the face of such a genocide. I could torture every child in the world and not bat an eye so long as I was advancing my own goals."

Rita looked at her as though she were some abomination. "You're mad" she whispered. "What could I have done?!"

Morgan sneered at her, contempt flashing across her face. "Anything, Miss Skeeter. You could have done anything."

She stood, gesturing to Penelope. She'd watched and recorded the whole thing, her face filled with revulsion. Seemed she wasn't attracted to women, such a shame, she was rather pretty. "You can have her now. Just make sure not to hurt her too badly. No need to create unnecessary trouble for us."

She made to leave, but paused, remembering one final thing. Rita was watching Penelope in fear. Did she even recognise who she was yet? How her article had essentially ruined the chance for Penelope to pick up any of the pieces of her life once she left Azkaban?

A muggleborn having attempted to commit line-theft against a pure-blood. Oh, Rita had a field day with it. Morgan didn't ask about the exact details, though she suspected it was all lies. All she knew was that over the summer after her third year, Penelope had been thrown into Azkaban for 6 months and Rita's article had painted her a monster; anyone from her old life no longer wanted anything to do with her, leaving her to fend for herself.

Morgan had taken advantage when she learned Penelope had come to them, looking for a new dealer when she could no longer pay her old one.

Reaching into her pocket, she dropped her Hogwarts letter next to Rita.

"Huh? What..." Rita mumbled, grabbing the letter.

"My Hogwarts letter." And there was the look of pure revulsion upon Rita's face that she had been looking for. One final nail in Rita's coffin that she had wanted to deliver. "Did you think I was an adult? Such foolishness. No, Miss Skeeter" she said, a vindictive smile upon her face as she reached towards Rita. "You just fucked a child" she whispered, fingers brushing against Rita's nipple. And as with pain, she could create pleasure and Rita's body seized for a moment as Morgan's power flooded her. " _And you loved it."_

Something within Rita seemed to break and she turned her head, throwing up onto the carpet. Morgan left the room as she broke down.

Rita still had a long night ahead. Penelope would not be gentle.

* * *

Well, that was a dark chapter, wasn't it? Poor Rita...

Honestly, there are going to be other chapters as dark as this. Morgans a monster and I rather enjoy writing about just how evil she can be when needed. So if you continue, just know these sorts of chapters will still show up. I'm not sure about actual sex scenes though, they may or may not show up.

Thanks to everyone that likes the story so far and continues to do so after, well, this...


	11. Chapter 11

Platform 9 and ¾'s. Even now, all these years after the fall of muggle civilisation, it was still the location for the Hogwarts Express; it was tradition, after all, much like the Leaky Cauldron being one of the main entrances to Diagon Alley for those that disliked apparating.

The train station itself was… not what she was expecting. She'd expected rusted, broken down trains to be clogging the rails, but instead the tracks were clean and empty, the rails a gleaming silver. The building itself was like new, no wear and tear that would be expected.

She and Su passed through the brick column leading to the platform, a feeling a rushing air brushing over them; coming out on the other side, Morgan saw a nostalgic sight.

The Hogwarts Express sat upon the tracks, belching steam into the air as its dark red paint gleamed beyond the bustling crowds. The sight gave Morgan so many feelings of nostalgia she could barely understand her feelings. How long had it been since she had seen a working muggle vehicle? Far too long, that was for sure.

Families were crowding the platform; the train wouldn't set off for a while yet, so parents were grabbing as much time with their kids as they could.

"Well, Su, welcome to platform 9 and ¾'s. What do you think?" she asked, smiling at Su.

Su was looking around, eyes shining with curiosity and excitement. "It's great, I can't believe we're going to Hogwarts" she said.

Oh Morgan wished she could be that excited. Unfortunately, they would be spending eight hours on that train. Eight hours in a small compartment with - possibly- some other eleven year olds. Urgh, she was gonna end up killing someone.

A pinch at her arm, and Morgan turned her ire on Su who was frowning slightly in return. "You look like you're about to give me a really hard test. We're going to Hogwarts, you shouldn't be grumpy."

Morgan rubbed her arm, for a moment her thoughts promising vengeance with the harshest test she could imagine, before she sighed and let it go. "You're right. Well, come on then, if we're lucky no annoying brats will join our compartment." Picking up her trunk, she dragged it behind her as Su followed.

As they were about to board the train, she was distracted by a commotion at the entrance to the platform. Red robed men and women were flooding the platform, cutting a path through the crowd.

Aurors. That could only mean one thing. She tapped Su on the shoulder and they both waited a moment, watching as the Aurors took stock of the platform, one of them casting unseen spells. Eventually a male nodded and a moment later, the Minister stepped through the barrier.

Morgan's eyes were first caught by Draco Malfoy, his blonde hair slicked back and black robes immaculate. But it was his face that most caught her attention. It was turned in an arrogant sneer as he looked at the people on the platform, his nose turned up at them.

Well, Morgan was right not to judge Draco before she had even met him. He wasn't like his canon personality.

He was worse, his father being the minister must have gone to his head for him to look at everyone as though they were dirt without even knowing them.

But then, then she gave her attention to the figure next to him. Lucius Malfoy, looking regal with his perfectly straight long hair and silver robes, every inch the perfect noble. He walked with a black cane clacking with each step against the stone floor throughout the now silent crowd, his right hand gripping the top, covered by a white glove.

His _one_ hand.

His left arm was missing from below the elbow, a fact he was not shy in showing off. A sign of his _regret_. As though he would ever regret actions that gave him so much power, that accomplished what she supposed was his main goal, wiping out muggles.

Morgan glared at him. She hadn't forgotten what the man had done, that was for sure. Take his son and make him _watch_ …

She shook off her anger, entering the train. She couldn't afford to let herself get so angry all the time, especially when there was nothing she could do about her anger. Let the Minister strut about like a King; she would wait and watch. And once she was strong enough, the Minister would find the ground crumbling beneath his feet.

They found an empty compartment, levitating their trunks onto the racks above. Strong, a child's body was not. Her wand still seemed to only accept the very best from her, only the most precise of movements and clear pronunciation would allow the spell to be performed.

It was annoying, but it gave her something to do as they waited for the train to set off. Strong fundamentals were, in her opinion, one of the most important things to learn. At the very least, she'd never get a wand movement wrong.

After a while, the train set off, chugging away from the station as parents waved their goodbye's. And, thankfully, they hadn't been joined by any other students. She didn't have any problems associating with young children when they got to Hogwarts, but eight hours? It was just too much time cramped together with the immature and their no-doubt awkward conversation attempts.

She took out a red silk handkerchief, placing it on the seat beside her. The colour-change charm wasn't taught until a little later in the year, but Morgan figured their was no reason to wait. She'd already read her books to exhaustion - so had Su, though she grumbled a little about all the work - and waiting to practice further magic, well, that just wasn't her.

Morgan fully intended to be years ahead of her peers. They were children for heavens sake, if she couldn't out-pace them then she may as well quit.

" _Colovaria"_ she said, moving her wand as described. But instead of the silk turning blue - as she had envisioned - her wand instead sneered at her and spat a spark from the tip, it somehow curling back and stinging her hand.

Why, this petulant little... This seemed to always be the problem, no matter how much the book described the wand movements, it could never quite get it right and Morgan was left perfecting it the best she could. The good news was that the wand movements were _all_ that were holding her back. Her grasp of theory as well as her instinctual grasp on magic that she'd trained for so many years meant - at least for now - that she had yet to fail a spell once her wand deemed her movements suitable.

But, of course, that didn't stop her from getting angry. Maybe she should have Su try the spell, turn her wand a nice pink... Oh my, if the way her wand was shooting out sparks was any indication, that was a threat it didn't like. She'd remember that.

Eventually the handkerchief was a nice, deep blue and Morgan decided that enough was enough, putting away her wand for now and standing up.

"Let's go, Su" she said.

Su didn't hesitate, putting away her book and following Morgan into the corridor of the train. "Where are we going?" she asked, glancing at Morgan quizzically.

Morgan met her eyes, her smile all teeth. "To see the hero, of course."

* * *

She found Harry in a compartment with Ron, both expected and not. She'd wondered just how much would be changed by the muggles being killed and so far the answer seemed to be not a lot, for Hogwarts anyway.

The surrounding compartments seemed to hush as she prepared to open the door. Really, if they wanted to talk with the 'Boy-Who-Lived' they could just do as she was.

She opened the door and stepped inside, the two occupants turning to stare at her. She gave no notice to Ron - she had no interest in him - focusing all her attention on Harry.

Well, this was no Daniel Radcliffe, that was for sure. His hair was a black mess, curling in odd locations. The glasses were the same, covering a pair of light green eyes adorning a thin face. This... This was the books Harry Potter, not the movies.

Idly, she wondered what Hermione - an ugly girl in the books - looked like, before casting the thought aside. Even Ron looked different, his face narrower and full of freckles, his body a little taller than his movie counterpart. Huh, now that she thought about it, Draco looked the same as she expected, but she had viewed from a distance. Well, it hardly mattered anyway.

But the most striking thing, the thing that really stood out to her, was just how _ordinary_ Harry looked.

"Err... can we help you?" said Harry, jolting her out of her thoughts. He was frowning at her, his scar peeking out from behind his fringe.

"Harry Potter..." she said, gazing at the utterly normal boy before her.

"Yes?"

She crossed her arms behind her back as she gazed at him. "How... disappointing."

Harry blinked behind his glasses. "What?" he asked, voice filled with confusion.

"You're just an ordinary boy, aren't you?" She wasn't quite sure what she had been expecting. Of course Harry would be normal, that was how it should be, but still...

A flash of anger crossed his eyes as his back stiffened. "Is there something wrong with that?" he asked.

Morgan couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped her. If only he knew... He was an ordinary boy in a world that would crush the normal, in a world where Harry Potter could no longer afford to be ordinary.. "Oh, Mr Potter" she said, a hint of mirth still colouring her tone. " _E_ _verything_ is wrong with that."

His lips pressed together, an annoyed frown twisting his face. "Well, I'm sorry the boy-who-lived isn't everything you wanted him to be" he said, and how tired he sounded. Perhaps this was a common occurrence?

"Yeah, leave him alone, whats wrong with being normal? And who are you, anyway?" spoke up Ron, drawing Morgans attention.

"Ah, Mr Weasley" she nodded, seeing him startle at the name. "My name is Fay, Morgan Fay, and this is Su" she indicated to Su, standing a little behind her, giving her own nod. She looked back at Harry, her voice taking on a darker tone. "And I'm not sorry, Mr Potter, but if you don't shape up, you soon will be."

The atmosphere of the compartment - previously quite calm - now turned threatening, Harry and Ron both tensing up.

"Oi, whats that supposed to mean?" said Ron, glaring at her. But Morgan wasn't listening to him.

This... this was a problem. The world was already so different, she had no idea if Harry was the only one that could kill Voldemort, but if he was then this, this normal boy in front of her wasn't enough. Canon Harry was a passive boy, that wouldn't do much of anything until his feet were quite literally in the fire. Voldemort tearing down the wizarding world? Lets just go about classes like normal, shall we?

It was foolish and naive. From his first year he never showed much motivation to learn magic, even when he knew Voldemort was still alive in his first year. That kind of personality... It wouldn't survive against a Voldemort as dangerous as this worlds.

"Let me give you some advice, Mr Potter" she said. One warning, that was all she would give him. "You need to open your eyes, you need to become stronger... Or you're going to die."

She turned and left the compartment, ignoring the commotion from Ron, plans already shifting and crystallizing. Either this Harry would shape up, or...

Or she would throw him to Voldemort herself.

* * *

It was dark by the time the train finally pulled up to the platform at Hogwarts. The older students all left for the carriages while they, as first years, followed Hagrid's rough voice, shouting them to his location.

Morgan had to admit, this was a good night to be crossing the lake. The sky was clear and the stars were shining brightly, the moon a pale crescent, illuminating the calm waters of the lake.

She and Su were joined in a boat by two girls, a ginger and brunette. She gave them a cursory nod before focusing on the lake. With a shout of "Forward!" the boats began to move. Morgan relaxed in the chilly air, enjoying the soothing sounds of waves gently lapping at the boat.

Eventually, they rounded a corner and Hogwarts came into view. It was... impressive, to see the castle fully illuminated against the night sky, looking much newer than she had ever seen a castle look before. Judging by the mumblings of children from across the lake, and even from Su, it seemed her reaction was not the norm.

Pulling up to wooden docks, they were led up to the castle, enclosed by large, white stone walls. A black gate was embedded into the wall, twisted metal sprouting blooming, metal flowers. The shield of Hogwarts took up position on the centre of the gate, a keyhole in the middle of a large, stylised H and surrounded by the four emblems of the Hogwarts Houses: the lion, on it's hind legs to the left and clawing at metal to its right; the snake, set to the right of the lion and coiled, as though to strike the Gryffindor lion; the badger, placed beneath the lion and finally the raven, beak raised into the sky.

 _Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus._ The ribbon of metal embossed with the Hogwarts logo seemed to float in empty air beneath the emblem, rippling with an unseen breeze. _Never tickle a sleeping dragon..._

Morgan couldn't agree more.

"Alrigh', one moment" Hagrid grumbled. Reaching into the pocket of his large brown overcoat, he brought out a golden key and opening the gate. Dramatics for the new students, no doubt the gate was open for those visiting via carriage; Morgan could see the appeal. In fact, it was probably always open usually, to allow students to visit the lake.

Following Hagrid, they were led through the gate and onto the grounds of Hogwarts. For a moment, she felt... uneasy. There was a strange feeling in the air, a certain feeling of danger, but it vanished quickly.

The entrance hall was an interesting sight. Great stone stairs led up to the left and right. Above, Morgan could spot the moving staircase shifting around, the paintings put up everywhere she could see peering at them curiously.. The other students were all in awe and-

Was that? Of course, there was no other student that would be prattling off facts in such a manner. The bushy haired girl that Morgan assumed was Hermione was chatting to an uninterested girl next to her. She seemed shabbier than she expected, but assuming she'd bought everything using the Hogwarts budget, her shabbiness made sense.

And, well, her transition from fiction to reality had not been kind. She was far from Emma Watson, with her extremely bushy hair and large front teeth. Fortunately, she was a witch and could no doubt find a way to fix that.

"Welcome, new students" spoke McGonagall, distracting Morgan from her observations. "I am Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration. In a moment, we shall enter the great hall. You shall stand quietly until your name is called, at which point you shall be sorted into your respective House." She looked over them, assessing them as the chatting students quieted. "Very good. Now, follow me." Turning, she opened the doors to the great hall, the children following.

For a moment, Morgan hesitated. This... this was where everything would truly begin. Where she would determine if she could rise to the greatest of heights, or fail like so many others no doubt had. Throughout all of history, how many had tried to accomplish what she wanted; how many had failed to accomplish what she wanted?

Well, she would just have to seize the small chance she had.

She stepped forward and into the great hall, beneath its star-strewn ceiling. Had she not known otherwise, she might have thought their was no ceiling, so complete was the enchantment. The rows of students were lit by floating candles, hovering high above as they watched with barely concealed boredom, in some cases.

Morgan took stock of them before turning her eyes onto the staff table. From Quirrel to Snape, they were all there. But what caught her attention wasn't the way Snape was staring unhappily at Harry, nor the fact that Quirrel was actually present, despite all the changes to the world.

No, her eyes were fixed upon Albus Dumbledore, sitting at the centre of the collection of Professors. And, most noticeably...

He was _old._ Her thoughts whirled, uncomprehending. Albus Dumbledore was old, in an age where age was defeated. His smile was small and his eyes were twinkling as he watched them walk forward between the long tables, but it didn't change what he was. Old.

Morgan wanted to laugh, wanted to scream, wanted to do _something._ For their was only one conclusion she could think of.

Albus Dumbledore had given up. The white beard, the wrinkles... He was waiting for death. Perhaps their were other reasons for it, but she didn't think so, nor was she inclined to hope so.

 _She was alone._ Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she had acknowledged that Dumbledore had likely done everything he could to stop the genocide. During the moments when her rage had cooled enough to allow her to think objectively, she accepted that he would have done everything he could, even if he failed. And she'd expected that he would continue to do all that he could. No matter how much she hated him, no matter how much she wanted him to burn, she had thought that he would be fighting with his full might, both alongside and against her.

But no. That frail body itself was a sign that he wasn't doing all he could, not anymore. Rather than take up the strength of youth in the fight against Voldemort, he chose this- _this!_ He knew Voldemort was alive, yet he still...!

Their was no rage within her mind, as she had expected to feel. Just a sort of incredulous disbelief. Voldemort sat but a few feet from him, separated from resurrection by only one small stone. The wide-eyed, innocent children were sharing a room with the greatest monster to ever exist - assuming he was there, anyway - and...

And only Morgan stood opposite, ready to stamp him back into the dirt with everything she had. Albus Dumbledore was defeated, broken. Harry Potter was a mere boy, unaware of the dangers lurking the world.

 _And she was alone._

She tried to wrench herself away from her fatalistic thoughts, tried to remind herself that there was no way Albus Dumbledore would just give up and that maybe he just liked being old, when another absurd thought knocked her off-centre.

If Voldemort were to return this year, wasn't Lucius Malfoy the only thing standing in his way of all Britain? Would he give up his power to Voldemort? She doubted it.

What an utterly absurd world she was in. If there was any consolation to all of this, it was that Snape still looked like Alan Rickman.

She watched as students were sorted, not noticing any discrepancies from the books. If this was how things were going to be, then very well. If Dumbledore had consigned himself to uselessness, if he refused to use his full might to bring down Voldemort, then she would just do so herself. Already she was discarding Dumbledore from her plans. She could no longer trust the thought that he would be capable of stopping Voldemort, even for a while.

But, even still, she found herself smiling. Dumbledore was broken? Very well. Harry Potter was an ordinary boy? Why not.

She would still win.

McGonagall called her name, eyeing her uneasily as she stepped forward, an eerie smile on her face.

 _This is where it all starts. Watch, Voldemort. Watch, Dumbledore._

 _Watch my rise._

* * *

Well, there you have it. Dumbledore isn't completely out of it yet, he'll still try to stop Voldemort, it's just that the weight of 6 billion people has broken him pretty badly. I'll probably have the hat tell Morgan her thoughts about him are right next chapter.

I'm trying to keep people close to their canon personalities, although there's likely to be small differences and I may end up getting it wrong.


	12. Chapter 12

She sat at the stool, her last sight that of the hall of students watching her curiously before her vision went black, the hat sinking below her eyes when McGonagall placed it upon her head, a musty smell tickling her nose.

She waited a moment, alone with her thoughts, before a voice spoke up.

 _So it's finally happened then_ came the hats voice, resounding through her mind. It's voice made her think of age and dust, of the scratching of pencils on paper; It sounded resigned as she felt it rifling through her memories. _I knew it wouldn't be long before another rose up, the conditions are all there._

Oh? So it had been expecting someone like her?

 _Aye, though perhaps not so... Worldly_ it said, sounding amused. _I've seen the effects of oppression in my long years and it always results in the rise of someone like you, out to change the world by any means. I don't know whether I want to throttle you now, or wish you good luck._

Ah, so she took it that the hat didn't approve of her… tactics? A small, mocking smile appeared. It was such a shame, the hat's opinion just meant so much to her, how would she ever bare it?

 _No, but I don't know whether the pain you will cause will be less than that created by your lack of action._

Morgan shrugged. The thought was of no concern to her. She could hardly make things worse, could she? And who else was there, really? The broken old fool, sitting uselessly behind her even as Voldemort gained more ground?

The hat sighed heavily. _He's not the man he once was, anymore._

Oh, joy. So she was right then, she really was alone.

The hat said nothing, searching through her mind in a sort of mournful silence for a moment. _You are not the person you once were either. Tragedy changes people, some become stronger…_

And others break beneath the weight. Was it strange that she didn't know which side of the coin she was on? Her original self was a person full of optimism and hope, enthusiastic for the future and as forgiving as a person could be.

 _Yes, I must admit, it really is quite startling to see a person change so much. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen it before._

They sat in silence for a couple minutes more, both occupied with their thoughts. Morgan wasn't ashamed of who she was, the hat could look all it wanted, so long as it knew to keep its mouth shut.

 _Oh, don't think I'll be saying much. I rather value my existence, small though it may be._

Seemed the hat had gained some wisdom in its many years. She'd contemplated just burning the thing should it prove... Disagreeable.

 _And besides… I think you might be right, you can't make things worse and someone needs to try and stop him. Albus will try - is still trying - but you're right. His heart won't be in it as he currently is. Such a sad state of affairs, that a person like you is what might be needed. A monster to stop another monster._

As he currently is? That gave her a thought. Perhaps she might be able to hammer some spine into the man.

 _Ah, I wish you luck in that endeavor. Now then, where to put you…_

Honestly, she didn't really have any strong thoughts about which house she wanted to be in, so she would allow the hat to do its job.

 _How kind of you_ it said, sounding amused. Y _ou could probably fit in any house, honestly. That's always the problem with adults, they are so much more nuanced than children. I would be hard-pressed to think of an adult that lacks the qualities of even one house, though they may have said qualities in different amounts. Hmm…_

For a moment, the hat was silent. Then, it spoke up, a cautious tone to its voice. _Well, I'm ruling Gryffindor out._

She waited for an explanation. She wasn't particularly concerned about not being in Gryffindor, but she was interested in the reason.

 _A Gryffindor_ … And how careful it sounded, as though about to step on a landmine. _A Gryffindor would have already visited their own families gravestone, not run from it like you have._

And suddenly, its caution was made clear. For a moment, she wanted to burn the hat, wanted to stamp it to ashes then scatter them to the wind. How dare it go there! How dare it even look at those memories! This fucking run-down relic! She wasn-

 _You learned apparition just so you could visit, then kept putting it off, always coming up with more and more excuses._

She wanted to argue, wanted to shout that she was just busy, that there was no point in visiting the grave of a dead person anyway! But then, her anger faded, and she was left only with the knowledge that it was right.

God, it had been far too long. She missed her sister.

The hat started to talk again, now that her anger was gone. She cast her moping for later, pulling herself back together.

 _Not Slytherin either._ Oh? That was far more interesting. _You have the ambition but… The cunning and resourcefulness, you have them, but you don't value them, they're merely useful tools. No, what you value is different._ Huh, well the hat wasn't wrong. She felt like she could see where the hat was going. But how curious, that she was being sorted on what she valued, not what she was.

 _It's a bit of both, really. As I said, you could fit anywhere, so I'm going off of what you will most value. Or maybe the House that has the most worth to you._

Ah, well, Gryffindor would have been out anyway then. Bravery, chivalry, she cared little for such things.

 _Indeed. You value loyalty, though you yourself refuse to give it to anyone. But you also value knowledge, you value the mind and wits, knowing that only the sharpest mind will be capable of achieving what you desire._

So Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, huh? If she had to decide…

Memories fluttered to the forefront of her thoughts, of the countless painstaking hours she'd spent mastering her power. No amount of boredom or frustration had deterred her, and she'd been rewarded with the small wandless power she now had at her fingertips.

 _Hufflepuff, then?_ The hat sounded tired and resigned. _If the world were in a better state, I don't think I'd consider it. The students of Hufflepuff are usually more… trusting than others. It will be easier for you to… acquire them._

But?

 _But the world is no longer what it was. If your memories are correct and he does return, then perhaps they will be safer under your wing._

So Hufflepuff then? Well, she had no problem with that. But wasn't that the House of honesty?

 _Aye, but it's also the House of patience, loyalty and hard-work. I think it suits you just as well as some other._

Then it was decided. But before she went-

 _Yes_ it cut her off, reading her thoughts. _I'll try my best to warn Potter. I'm not sure how much good it will do, but you're right. As he is now - if he's the same as the one in your memories - he simply won't survive._

 _Well then, I've decided. Best of luck in_ "HUFFLEPUFF" it shouted to the hall. The hat was lifted off her head, revealing the politely clapping Hufflepuff table and the shocked face of Professor McGonagall.

Surprised that she wasn't a Slytherin, perhaps. Oh, Professor, that bias is no good.

Hufflepuffs can be just as evil as Slytherins.

* * *

Su watched anxiously as Morgan was sorted into Hufflepuff, walking over to sit next to the two girls they had shared a boat with, smiling at the brunette who smiled in return.

She bit her lip, watching uneasily. Jealousy sprouted within her, a burning fire that consumed her thoughts. Why was she smiling at Morgan? What did she want with her? If she tried stealing Morgan from her, then she'd...

She glared at the brunette - Hannah, if she remembered correctly - visions of beating her smiling face into the ground filling her thoughts. Maria was bad enough that, sometimes, when Maria was spiriting Morgan away for the night, she almost wished she'd never had Morgan save her.

"Su Li" came the call from the Professor. She quickly ran up and sat on the stool. The longer she was separated from Morgan, the more chance of someone trying to steal her.

 _Well now, what's this_? She startled at the voice in her mind as the hat covered her vision. _Ah, girl, you have no idea how sorry I am_ it said, a sad note to its tone. _You've been so twisted..._

Su collected herself. She didn't care what it was talking about, she just wanted to get to Hufflepuff.

 _Hufflepuff? You certainly have the loyalty, but I wonder... Is that what you really want?_

Yes, that was what she really wanted. Morgan needed her, she wasn't very good at controlling herself. If one of those bitches showed any interest, Morgan wouldn't be able to stop herself. She needed Su to stop her making any mistakes.

 _Heh, I guess she does struggle with impulse control, huh? But I don't think Hufflepuff is right for you._

The implied denial filled her with anger. Morgan was in Hufflepuff, therefore she should be in Hufflepuff.

The hat sighed. _This level of attachment isn't healthy, but I guess it's natural after the life you've lived. Hufflepuff is the house for hard workers; do you really think you belong there?_

Su hesitated. She'd always worked hard when Morgan said to, but she never liked it. She liked learning, but it could get so boring. She didn't know how Morgan did it.

 _Yes, I think, instead... You've got her wrapped around your finger, don't you? You certainly show no shame when it comes to manipulating Morgan..._

Su blushed, embarrassed. She had no choice, Morgan kept spending too much time with Maria. She hated it when she saw Morgan was spending the night out. And someone needed to stop her getting so angry. Su could remember at least twice when Morgan had just flipped out for seemingly no reason.

 _Oh yes, definitely not Hufflepuff._

Her heart felt like it was going to jump up into her throat. She had to get into Hufflepuff!

 _Tell me, what would Morgan want?_ said the hat tiredly. _Would she want you to blindly follow her into Hufflepuff, or perhaps go where you could become more... useful?_

That gave her pause. Morgan... Morgan valued usefulness most of all. She still remembered that moment when she was younger, when she'd approached Morgan and had been accepted. For some reason, something had caused her to see Su as better than the other children, had raised her in Morgan's eyes. It was a nice feeling.

 _See? Rather than a follower, don't you think she'd value you more if you became... more than you currently are?_

Su clenched her hand, nails biting into the skin of her palm. The hat was playing her, she could feel it, trying to keep her from Morgan! But...

But it was right.

 _Yes, it will be difficult for you, but perhaps better, in the end. Well then, good luck in_ "SLYTHERIN!" it yelled.

She sat there, upon the stool, body rigid with shock. She wasn't in the same house as Morgan. She'd be separated from her, different classes, different bedrooms...

The hat was removed from her head, and she hurriedly looked over to Morgan. She was in a different House, and various what-ifs twisted their way into her thoughts. Though Slytherin might be better for her, she couldn't stop the worries from plaguing her.

Morgan was surprised, looking at her with wide eyes, but then she smiled, a full happy smile, waving to Su.

She breathed a sigh of relief, running to the politely clapping Slytherin table.

* * *

So Su was a Slytherin huh? She'd expected her to follow her into Hufflepuff, but Slytherin was fine as well. Still, why Slytherin? She'd have expected Ravenclaw if not Hufflepuff. Oh well.

She watched in fascination as the sorting proceeded. Everyone was going where they should, with Harry throwing her a startled look after the hat was pulled from his head. Seemed the hat had given a warning too, hopefully it wouldn't be so hard to turn him into something useful.

Dumbledore started the feast as per canon. Honestly, she would have found herself hard pressed to see any differences had he not been old, but they were there. A certain tiredness to his face, a subtle lack of enthusiasm that would probably be missed were you not looking for it.

The price of his failure was heavy and Morgan was not feeling the slightest sympathy.

At his clap, the plates of the table became filled with food, from roasted chickens to bowls of pasta, there was something for everyone on the table.

She gave an idle thought to if the Elves would cook her personal meals if she asked, before digging in.

"So, hey! Was that Slytherin girl your friend?" chirped Hannah to her right.

Oh Lord save her. The girl was a picture-perfect reason for why you should never allow children to drink coffee.

And she was stuck with her. For years.

She turned, putting on a patient smile. "Of course, we've been friends for years now. Is her being Slytherin a problem?"

She looked at her, wide-eyed, mouth clamped on a chicken leg. She was… a cute girl, for an eleven year old. Brown eyes, a button nose, and dark brown hair that looked as though it had been straightened, with a perfectly straight fringe.

She could only wish strength to any boy that tried to deal with her in the future.

"No, it's fine! Slytherin, Gryffindor, who cares, right? But" she looked around shiftily, "Susan's aunt says a lot of Slytherins become… Criminals!" she said, as though imparting a scandalous secret.

To Hannah's right, the ginger girl Morgan assumed was Susan face palmed.

"I'm sorry for her" said Susan. "She's… excited."

She sounds like she's high on a sugar rush. "It's… fine. I'm Morgan" she offered.

"Susan" she responded. "It's nice to meet you." Susan had a face spotted with cute freckles across her nose, ginger hair done up in a tight ponytail. And she seemed to carry herself proudly, sitting straight-backed upon her chair.

"And I'm Hannah! Susan's best friend!"

Was she always like this? She couldn't be, right? Why does Susan look so resigned? Oh Lord, seven years with this.

The other girls they would be sharing a dorm with a Megan Jones, apparently related to Gwenog jones, for which she sounded rather embarrassed about, as well as Leanne, a dirty blonde haired girl who seemed rather shy.

They were finally sent off to their dormitories by Dumbledore, with a warning not to visit the third-floor corridor. How long could this continue? How long could 'canon' keep itself intact before the waves broke it?

At maximum, she gave it until fourth year before everything changed, at worst it could just be this year. Who knows what Malfoy would do with the diary, after all. And what were the chances of the Weasleys winning the lottery that ended with Peter's picture on the newspaper delivered to Sirius, by a man who's not even minister anymore?

They were led by the two fifth year prefects to the hufflepuff dorm, situated on the ground floor apparently nearby the kitchens. The entrance was in a room filled with large barrels; with a rhythmic tap, one of them opened, allowing them to walk into the Hufflepuff common room.

Warm, that was her first impression. Lots of brown colouring and thick rugs. It was a circular room, with fireplaces and furniture set around the wall. Enchanted windows, showing a grassy field beneath a night sky, were dotted around the room and would no doubt allow warm light inside during the day.

The girls dorms were on the left, boys on the right. Their shared dorms seemed adequate, if a little annoying to be sharing a room with so many pre-pubescent girls. She could only shudder for what things would be like once puberty hits. Sweet Jesus.

Her bed was placed at the far end of the room, facing the door with her trunk at the base. Interesting thing about the trunk, it was expanded on the inside, as all school trunks were. How else would a student fit a year's worth of clothing and supplies inside? Just the cauldron for potions took up a huge amount of room.

Throwing on her pajamas, she threw herself into the big, comfy bed for a good night's sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

The enchanted ceiling was awash with dawn light above the sparsely populated hall, most of the castle still asleep this early in the morning. Even still, however, the tables were full of food, from toast to cereal.

It was a shame that she had no appetite. Staring at the hoops floating in her milk, all she could do was rub the bridge of her nose as she breathed her anger down.

Honestly, what sort of child snored? Hannah, that's who. The little brat was clearly trying to provoke her; smothering her in her sleep would be fully justified. She'd be doing the world a favour.

She slumped into her chair, the wood digging into her back. She'd just… have to put up with it. One of the many detriments to living in a shared dorm. At least when it was just Su all she had to deal with was some clinging and a bit of cover hogging, but this was on a whole different level.

And there was so much she needed to do, she really didn't want deal with this on top of all that.

A couple minutes later, after she had started on her cereal, she saw Su enter the hall. Hmm, if anything she looked worse than Morgan felt. She still had her bed hair and was biting her lip anxiously, a tiredness to her eyes.

She perked up as Morgan waved her over, hurrying to her side and hesitating as she looked at the seat next to her.

Morgan rolled her eyes. "Sit down" she said.

Su quickly did so, scooting her chair so close they were touching, followed by scooting herself half onto Morgan's chair, until their hips were pressed against each other.

"Am I allowed to sit here?" she said, looking around at the few other Hufflepuff students, as though she hadn't just sat down and stole all her personal space.

"I shouldn't see why not. If anyone has a problem, well, I could do with blowing off some steam." Preferably on Hannah.

Su eyed her, eyes narrowing. "You're angry again. What's upset you this time?"

Morgan blinked, then scowled at her. "Why Su, whatever do you mean by 'this time?'"

Unfortunately, the girl seemed immune to her annoyed glare. "You always get angry" she shrugged.

Morgan's face soured, lips twisting like she had swallowed a lemon. Angry? She did not always get angry. This uppity...

"Eh?" said Su, eyes roaming Morgan's face from inches away due to how close she was sitting. Then her eyes widened, looking at Morgan sorrowfully. "You're… You're not angry with me, are you?" she said, pouting.

Faced with that, Morgan did as she always did, folding like a wet card. She wrapped her right arm around Su, sighing as Su burrowed into her, head resting against her neck.

"No, just didn't get as much sleep as I wished" she grumbled, relaxing under Su's body heat.

When Su questioned further, she went into a long rant about how she wanted to smother Hannah in her sleep, to which Su was a strangely happy audience.

"Anyway" she said, stopping her angry rant. "What about you? You don't look too good yourself." Su didn't look that bad but there was a definite tiredness to her eyes. "The Slytherins aren't bullying you, are they?" She'd taught Su how to deal with bullies, but those were wretched orphans without wands. If they were bullying her…

"No, none of them have even talked to me, just…" she mumbled, burying her face into Morgan.

"Just?" she said coolly. Something was wrong with her and she would find out what.

Su mumbled into her neck, face red. Morgan's hand tightened slightly, squeezing her shoulder.

"I just… Didn't like sleeping on my own."

This girl was going to kill her with such adorableness. Still though… "You managed just fine when I spent the night with Maria."

Su pulled away from her, something very ugly flashing across her eyes. Turning to the table, she pulled some bacon towards her, grabbing a fork and spearing it viciously.

Hmm, guess not.

The sound of flapping wings caused her to look up. A brown owl was flying down from the ceiling towards her, a paper clutched between its talons. Swooping, it dropped the paper in front of her before sweeping away.

The Daily Prophet, pretty much Britain's only newspaper. It was… not expensive, but cost far more than it would have had it some decent competition.

The front article was about a new decree by the Minister, allowing him to set up… Huh, he was creating his own secret service, staffed directly by him for his own protection. All SS employees would have to swear binding oaths to protect the Minister. Something _very_ serious. Vows weren't illegal by any stretch, but there was such a huge taboo against them...

The decree was actually rather interesting. She noted that the SS would be sworn to the Minister for Magic, not Lucius, until a new Minister was appointed. Baby steps, eh Lucius?

Far more interesting - in the immediate future, anyway - was an article by Rita Skeeter about Harry Potter.

Morgan grinned sharply as she read. It really was a good article, talking about his placement among Gryffindor, just like his parents. And then…

It talked about his wand, the twin of You-Know-Who's own wand, and my wasn't that tragic? Harry Potter, Wizarding hero, forced to live with an ever present reminder of his parents murder. And oh, how she, Rita, offered only her full support to this tragic figure.

Oh Harry, if only he could see the jaws slowly closing upon him.

* * *

"Alright class, say it with me now. _Lumos_!"

Morgan watched as the other students tried their spells, some wands lighting up while others did nothing or sputterred. Her own wand was glowing with a faint light; Su's was glowing a little brighter.

The Wand-lighting charm. Of course it was, she didn't know what she was expecting from this lesson.

"Bravo! Bravo!" squeaked Flitwick from atop his stack of books. "To those that didn't manage the spell, we'll soon have you caught up!"

His high-pitch voice grated on her ears. Her wand light faded as she closed her eyes, breathing deeply. It didn't help that she hadn't gotten as much sleep as she wished.

She opened her eyes, looking annoyingly at the tiny Professor. She couldn't remember the truth, but she wouldn't be surprised if the rumours were true and he did have some Goblin ancestry. Hagrid was half Giant, so Goblin-Human children shouldn't be impossible.

For a moment, she drifted as she realised she couldn't remember who was the human one of Hagrid's parents. The horrid images were quickly banished before she could do more than wince and cross her legs. Just… Ouch.

"Well then!" came Flitwick's voice, causing Morgan to grip her wand tightly as she focused on him. "To those that succeeded, I'll be passing around some material for you to look at. I want you all to read through it, then try the spells and exercises listed. I shall award points to any that impress me, so try hard now!"

She saw students across the room perk up at the mention of points. Fortunately, Su wasn't one of them. Thank God at least one person saw how stupid such things were. All points did was earn a house the cup at the end of the year, that would then spend the year in a cabinet in a Head of House's office somewhere.

"Susan, did you hear that! We can earn some points!" Hannah chirped to her left. Morgan sighed. Why did she have to sit next to her? To her disappointment, even Susan looked enticed by the prospect of points. Such a shame, she had seemed more mature, but she supposed she was expecting too much.

Su was also glaring at the girl, eyes beaming a hateful glare at her from Morgan's right. Understandable.

Stacks of papers were floating around the room to all the students that had managed the charm. Reading through the sheaves of parchment, she actually found herself growing more interested in the lesson. Written down were the incantations that would perform the spell in a different colour, along with the wand movements, all of which were very similar.

There was also an exercise for, she assumed, increasing one's control over magic, by trying to change the intensity of the light from the spell. Child's play really, but she might as well try it.

Well, she was stuck in this classroom for the next couple hours, so she supposed she should get on with it. " _Lumos_ " she said, feeling the thrum of her power through her veins, the flow of strength calmly sitting beneath the surface, come to life as it merged with her wand, white light brightening the tip of her wand.

She channeled more power into her wand. This spell didn't even cause her the faintest of mental strain thanks to the simplicity, low power requirements and how much she had practiced it, and her wand obediently brightened. Her power was more controlled now, she could now throw around much more power before her magic fought her, especially now she had a wand.

A flash of light interrupted her, eyes wincing shut, though she noted with some pride that it hadn't caused her to stop her spell. From across the room she saw a Slytherin girl rubbing at her eyes and glaring at her wand.

"Oh ho! Careful now! Even the most simple spells can cause problems if you don't handle them properly!" shouted Flitwick, bouncing enthusiastically.

Hmm, interesting. She couldn't recall ever actually overpowering her spells. Most of her wandless training had resulted in underpowered magic, if anything, and when she finally got a wand her control was enough to perform the spell properly, when her wand allowed.

She turned to the other spells provided. Below each spell was some simple theory, followed by the wand movements. " _Lumos Roseus_ " she said. And it worked first time, thankfully, the light turning a deep red.

The spell felt… slightly different, as though an extra note had been added to the spell. She flicked through the other spells, the light shifting into different colours as she went through them. The notes of the spell, or perhaps the taste of the spell, or even perhaps the adding of another strand to the tapestry of the spell… It was difficult to describe, but it shifted slightly each time she changed spell. They all felt so similar to each other that the difference was almost unnoticeable.

"Well done over there! Twenty points to Hufflepuff!" Flitwick's voiceturneto awareness. Looking around, she saw the other students all still trying the wand-lighting charm. A few students had faint, sputtering coloured lights flashing at their wand tips, but that was it.

Good. She refused to be lesser than a child, not after all her hard work. She couldn't afford to.

The lesson ended soon after. Seems she had been more absorbed with the magic than she expected. But…

As she walked down the hallway, practicing the different spells, she couldn't help a nagging feeling clawing at her. She just felt like she was missing something, something obvious, and it was starting to frustrate her.

* * *

"Absolutely not!"

The Hogwarts library was just as incredible as she had been told. Thousands, tens of thousands, even, of books stretched across the room, corridors branching off the main aisle and leading deeper into the library, surrounded by bookshelves. Tables were placed at points throughout the room, usually in one of the side paths, out of the way of the main corridor that stretched from one end of the room the the other.

It would have been perfect, an endless resource for her to learn from, were it not for this… uptight lowlife.

"Do you know what can happen!? The owl could drop the book, weather could tear it apart, students might not return them!" screeched Madam Pince, the librarian. A truly unfortunate woman that… Well, if she was turned into a Veela, Morgan still guessed that she wouldn't know how to look good. She should get a dictionary and put her picture next to the word 'plain'.

"Some of these books are hundreds of years old! To take them from the castle, without my care, who knows how badly they could be damaged!" said the shrill harpy.

"I see" said Morgan, glaring at her. "So, if you won't grant me permission, who will?"

A mad glint entered her dim eyes, sparkling behind her square glasses. "No-one, you hear! This is my library, my books, I have the final say! And I will not allow them to leave this castle!"

This woman was clearly far too attached to her books. Morgan would not be surprised to find her rutting with one of the books spines at night.

She shuddered. That was not an image she wanted to see. "Is that so? And if I looked through the Hogwarts rules, would they say the same thing?"

This was all rather frustrating. She'd promised Penelope access to the library and she would get it. If she had to, she'd use the Room of Requirement, it would just be easier to use the library. She didn't really want to go near the room much when Voldemort was in the castle, especially when she had yet to acquire the map.

Pince looked like she'd bitten something rancid. "The Headmaster… may… give you permission."

Morgan brightened, smiling sweetly at the nut job. "There, was that so hard? So I'll need Dumbledore's permission, huh?" she mused. Another annoyance, but she would deal with it, as with all things.

Pince sneered down at her. "As though the Headmaster would ever allow it. Go ahead, ask him, see what it gets you." Turning, she walked through a door to the side of the main entrance, slamming it shut.

Well, that was a woman who desperately needed to get laid, assuming her vagina hadn't sealed itself up from disuse.

She turned to the library, walking amongst its towering bookshelves. There were sections for animation, inanimate transfiguration, invisibility… Practically every type of magic was within these walls, all neatly divided to make the books easily findable.

Hmm, if there was an magic she had a particular interest in, it would be transfiguration. To her, that seemed like the branch of magic in which mastery was truly required in order to reach the upper echelons of power. Rita was rather good at it, had they not managed to destroy that concrete transfiguration attempt then things could have been very different.

She grabbed a book entitled _Matches to Needles: A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration_ , sitting at a table to read. She'd already had her other lesson for the day, herbology with the Gryffindors, so she had the rest of the day to herself.

But, as she was cracking open the book, she sighed. If she started, she wouldn't stop and the rest of the day would be gone. It was no good putting it off.

She stood, shoving the book into her bag. There was a book on a desk near the main door, filled with names, times and book titles. She quickly filled it in before heading off into the castle.

The corridors were filled with moving paintings, the occupants watching her as she walked, from old men with great white beards to a small black bird that followed her from painting to painting. It was rather incredible, that the lives and memories of so many people were recorded within this castle. Just these paintings must have enormous educational value.

A quick question to one of the occupants had them showing her the way to Dumbledore's office, to the stone gargoyle standing before an alcove.

Well, this would be sooner than she expected, but it had to happen eventually.


	14. Chapter 14

The stone gargoyle towered above her, ugly, sharp-toothed face leering down. She raised an eyebrow at it. "Well?" she said.

The gargoyle moved, shuffling out of the way with a huff, slowly and lazily revealing the stairs hidden behind him. Gone was the fearsome face, replaced with an annoyed twist of the mouth.

Morgan would bet money that it was trying to scare her away just so it wouldn't have to move.

Stepping past, she walked up a set of spiralling stairs, heading upwards. A large brown door stood at the top, carved with intricate designs, of Hogwarts, trees and many other things. It was rather interesting, but she hadn't the time.

Knocking on the door, she waited. Seeing that there was no response, she shrugged and opened the door. The gargoyle let her up here, if Dumbledore had a problem he could take it up with it.

The Headmaster's office was… interesting. Towards the back and near a desk was a perch, sitting next to a set of stairs and upon which sat Fawkes, flaming plumage immediately catching her eye.

His beady black eyes were fixed upon her, narrowed slightly. Really, such a suspicious bird. She was just an innocent eleven year-old, pure and naive to the ways of the world. What had she done to be looked at so?

Cabinets lined the walls, the books within shielded from the outside world by thin panes of glass. A golden chandelier hung from the ceiling, what seemed like a solar system replica orbiting the central bulb.

In one cabinet she could see the tell-tale glow of the pensieve, though she ignored it for now.

Seeing that Dumbledore still wasn't here, she shrugged, opening up one of the cabinets and grabbing a book within. Seeing all these books out on display like this, it would just be a shame to not have a look.

The thick tome… was worthless. She snorted, eyeing it with amusement. Promising the secrets to great power, it seemed to spend its time meandering through the author's life… in the 1500's.

"I must confess" came Dumbledore's voice from the stairs near Fawkes. "I had never thought anyone would ever actually read any of those books."

He looked… Hmm, she had to admit, he had his own regal quality to him. His robes were a deep blue, tiny stars of light shining from points. With the thick white beard and eyebrows, he cut a striking figure and she could see why some would compare him to Merlin.

But she wasn't feeling impressed. Instead, all she could feel was an upswing of disgust.

She kept the disgust to herself. "Trying to look impressive?" she asked. And there was a certain mocking hidden in her tone, a subtle sneer that she just couldn't control. Even her words were a jab, one she just couldn't stop herself from speaking.

She was in front of what she viewed as the world's greatest failure, she could hardly be blamed for it. Perhaps it would be better to pretend to be an ordinary, naive eleven year-old meeting a famous figure, perhaps she was being a fool once again, but she found she didn't care.

"But of course!" he cheerfully exclaimed, blue eyes twinkling faintly as he walked down the stairs. "You know, every Christmas people always buy me more books, I felt they could at least be put to good use. Why, being a great wizard is 99% looking impressive, my girl."

Being called 'my girl' by him of all people was not making her any happier.

He sat upon the chair behind his desk, taking out his wand and twirling it. With nary a sound, a chair popped into existence opposite. "Come, Miss Fay, take a seat."

Now that she was in a room with him, she was slightly surprised at the amount of anger bubbling just beneath the surface. The shock of him being old had worn off and the hate was seeping into her mind. For a moment, she wanted to throw the chair at him, wanted to hurl acid-laced abuse until he was a broken shell, to destroy whatever remained of the man through her words alone.

She was standing before the man that could have - _should_ have - found a way to stop her world from dying; words couldn't describe how much she wanted to tear him down.

But she didn't. She had expected herself to feel angry, and she was an adult, not some petulant child. So she did as he asked, sitting in the surprisingly comfortable chair.

"Lemon drop?" he asked, pulling a bowl filled with the yellow sweets from… Somewhere.

She stared at the sweets blankly. "I prefer cherry" she said.

"Ah" he said, as though confirming some fundamental truth. For a moment, he looked at her, blue eyes void of their twinkling, face grave. "I see that you and I shall not get along", sounding for all the world as though she'd just murdered his hopes and dreams.

This- this fucker! He was just playing around! He sat before what might very well be the last free remnant of a world he _watched burn and he was-_

Before her, well, rather unreasonable anger at an innocent, joking comment, could cause her to do anything, Fawkes cut in. His beak opened and out came the one of the worst things she'd ever heard.

But that was ignored, for the sudden, huge headache scything its way through her mind was taking her attention. With a hiss, one hand blindly clutched at her forehead while the other grabbed her wand, the cool wood reassuring beneath her twitching palm. Before she could do anything, however, the Phoenix's blasted song stopped, the future patient of St Mungo's Janus Thickley Ward staring down at her with his beady eyes from atop Dumbledore's shoulders.

Unkillable? Such arrogance. One did not have to be killed to effectively be dead.

Any humor was gone from Dumbledore's face as he met her burning eyes. "I had hoped…"

Morgan narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh? Talk to a certain Professor, did you? Did she tell you all about the big, scary eleven year-old?" Her magic was a storm, the waves of her power crashing through her body. Flakes of wood dried up, curling and falling from her chair as the desk before her began cracking, heatwaves flowing from her body.

And now the floodgates were opened.

"Indeed. But I had not expected you to be so far gone. You are going down a path that shall bring you nothing but loneliness and misery."

A nasty smile crossed her face. "Oh, I don't know. Becoming the next Albus Dumbledore doesn't sound so bad."

A sudden, sharp jab, one that she could see had hit home, and that made ruining any relationship with him worth it. For a moment his eyes shone fiercely, but it was gone as soon as it came. With a sigh, his shoulders slumped. "What did you come here for, Miss Fay? I do not believe you came here just to get into a fight."

The sudden change from where she had expected the conversation to go caught her off guard, leaving her blinking at him. "Really? That's it?" Her magic, previously roiling, was quickly brought under control as she was knocked off-center.

He raised an eyebrow at her, some faint humour returning to his face. "Would you prefer me to go on a long lecture that both of us know will accomplish nothing? You have already made your lack of respect for me apparent, your willful entering and subsequent search has made that quite clear."

He- he knew what she was, knew how dark she was, and… This was it? He didn't even try, he just… Slumped and gave up. She was expecting, well, _more._ He really was completely useless.

Good Lord but this man disgusted her. She found herself thinking that she would have respected him more if he killed her here and now, as he should have done when he first met Riddle. But no, the man was too much a coward to ever do something like that.

She sneered at him. "I have been told I require your permission to send books out of the castle. If you could quickly give me permission, we can both go about our separate ways."

"Ah, I see. Rarely allowed, but I have done it before. But what makes you so sure I will give it?"

Morgan smiled, a sweet thing full of hidden poison. "I promised a girl that I would gain her access to the library."

He frowned, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. "I hardly think tha-"

"Her name is Penelope Clearwater."

His hand froze. The expression on his face, the pain caused by another of his failures… Such a delight, it would keep her warm in winter.

And after that, there wasn't much more to say. He quickly wrote her a note giving her permission before dismissing her, staring down at his hands sadly.

She found his sadness only made her feel better.

But not enough to stop her from sending a certain letter.

* * *

It was as she was walking away from the owlery that she finally started to regret how she had acted. It was… shameful, for her to let her anger get the better of her so easily. If only knowing she had to get a better handle on her emotions actually helped her do so. Maybe Occlumency would help with that...

She'd gone in there hoping to dance around the issue of whatever McGonagall might have said to him, to just get a feel for him, not… this. He was just so _useless_ …

If he was sitting before a young Tom Riddle once again, what would he do? Ha, as though she needed to ask.

He would do nothing, as he had just done with her, because he was a _useless fuck tha-_

She bit her lip, clenching her fist tightly. Pausing for a moment, she took a deep breath, squashing the anger back down. Her head was still throbbing from that thing's song, and the pain only served to make it that much more difficult for her to suppress her anger.

Phoenix song. She'd forgotten they had such an ability; she would have to research the specific details later.

Her lips curved up slightly as she thought about the letter, the satisfaction helping with her anger. It would take a long time, years even, but the Headmaster would fall, as with all the rest.

Her taps upon the barrel to the Hufflepuff common room were probably harder than needed, entering the room filled with talkative students, sitting around and playing games or reading etc.

On the other side of the room she saw a flash of pink hair, the girl it belonged to… Flirting? It looked like she was flirting, anyway, if the flush on the boys face she was sat next to was any indication.

She cursed her younger body. For her to get laid would require either substantial effort or apparating back to Maria, which she didn't want to do yet. Must be rather nice being a metamorph.

She ignored Tonks, only slightly resentful. Another plan, another thing that she needed to do, but that could wait. For now, she just wished to relax in bed and sleep away this headache and anger.

Throwing open the door to her dorm, she jumped onto her bed, ignoring her dorm-mates.

If only they would do the same, but really, that would just be asking too much, wouldn't it?

"Morgan! Hey, Morgan! Where've you been?! You totally need to tell us how you did that in Charms!"

Morgan let out an almost inaudible moan into her pillow, before turning and meeting Hannah's eyes. She looked more excited than usual, if that was possible, hands placed on the end of Morgan's bed, body practically vibrating.

"I was just having a chat with the Headmast-"

"You mean Dumbledore! Really? What's he like? What did you talk about? Come on, tell us!"

This brat… Honestly, what did she do to deserve this?

Thankfully, for Hannah, Susan came up, placing a hand on her shoulder and pulling her back slightly. "What she means" she started, casting a warning glance at Hannah, "Is that we were worried about you. A couple of the Slytherin's weren't looking too happy after that Charms class."

Hmm, she hadn't really been paying much attention. "Really?"

Susan nodded. "I overheard them... Well, my aunt says not to say bad words, so I wont repeat it, but they weren't happy about being outdone by a half-blood. _We_ were worried" she said, shooting Hannah a glare.

Half-blood? Well, she had come to Hogwarts wearing clothing that far outstripped what an orphan would be able to buy... Perhaps that was why Su hadn't been bullied, it wasn't like they advertised their blood status.

"Hey! I told you she'd be fine, and she is! Morgan could totally take those Slytherins! Now, about Dumbledo-"

"Hannah!"

"But, Susan..." Hannah whined.

Morgan sighed. "Honestly, if you want to know so badly, just go talk to him. He won't bite. Jesus, you're worse than everyone that's too scared to just talk to Potter."

Hannah looked at her with wide eyes, lips opening to no doubt further question her, when she was wrenched away, falling to her butt behind Susan.

Who had taken Hannah's place, looking at Morgan in a way that would make her fear for her chastity, if Susan were older.

Or, well, if she had any.

"Have you talked to him?! What is he like? What did he say?" she asked, a fervour to her bright blue eyes, all the earlier decorum forgotten.

Ah, of course Susan was a fan girl. And, by the way Leanne had creeped next to the side of her bed, she was living with two of them.

She blamed Harry for this. It would be such a shame if rumours started to spread about his, ah, _preferences_. The heartbroken look on Susan's face just made it better.

Morgan never claimed she wasn't petty.

* * *

And~ Dumbledore doesn't really care, for a number of reasons.

Thanks again to everyone that likes the story. Also, I've seen this a couple times now, but just to clear it up, Morgan's birthday is _October_ 31st, Su's is October 12th. So the prophecy doesn't apply to her, she'd need to be born at the end of July for that.


	15. Chapter 15

She stood outside the door, the pouring rain soaking her blonde hair, hating herself.

Extending out from Knockturn Alley, growing ever larger as years went by, was the rundown district of New London. From rough cobblestone roads, to messy concrete houses pressed up tightly against each other; people that couldn't afford one of the shiny new houses built by the ministry usually came here, if they wanted to stay in London, anyway. The ministry didn't really come here, so long as people avoided drawing too much attention.

Unless they discovered you might be hiding a 'dark' creature.

The squat, gray building, inset with a thick, steel door, was before her. The few small windows were blacked out, covered in grime and newspaper. Raising a hand, she hesitated.

She hated this place, hated it so fucking much.

But… But she had no choice, and it made her want to cry, to scream against the unfairness of the world, to rail against those that had forced her to this. For the memories were simply too strong; she _needed_ it, needed a way to help her forget, to help her sleep at night.

She couldn't let Morgan know, she didn't think she'd be able to take it if the one person that showed her any kindness, the one person that gave her another chance, knew she was spending the money she'd been given like this, that she even still needed this.

She couldn't take seeing the disappointment, not from her.

Her tight, sweaty fist pounded on the cold, wet metal, the sharp thuds echoing out into the empty street. It took a few minutes, but eventually the door was opened with a squeal, revealing a short, fat man in a stained, bulging black suit.

He looked her up and down, the grey light of the late afternoon reflecting off his shiny, head. "Heh, I knew you'd be back" he leered, eyes roaming her.

That fucking look, she hated it. It made her feel disgusting, brought memories closer to the surface, scratching at the borders of her composure.

For a moment, she was back in the ministry cell, waiting to be shipped to Azkaban as _he_ held her down, forcing her. She could still _feel it, smell his breath, still-_

"Well, come in then" came James' slimy voice, pulling her out of the memory. She shakily followed him into the building, the door closing with a heavy clang.

They walked through a large room lit by a red glow, the air smoky. Bean bags were thrown around the room, the occupants lounging with blank eyes, staring at nothing. She could see needles and potion bottles scattered around the floor, almost standing on one of them.

She kicked it into the distance, the bottle skittering across the hardwood floor, but that only brought her eyes to other people, the source of the moaning that filled the room.

She hated this place.

She hated herself.

James led her into a room at the back, his office. Sitting at a chair in front of a desk, she waited as he disappeared into a side room, coming back with a familiar green bottle and placing it on the desk.

"Finally decided to spread those legs, eh?"

She glared at him, revolted. That was why she had originally sought out a new dealer. When he'd demanded… more from her, she'd refused to go that far, no matter how addicted she was.

Little consolation to her self-loathing considering how far she'd already gone. She hadn't exactly had any money.

"I have money, now" she said, voice filled with contempt. "And I don't need… _that._ Just the drugs, I can get the rose on my own." She wished she didn't need the rose, wished she'd never been tricked into drinking spiked drugs, but it was too late now.

He sneered at her. "So you'll spread your legs for others, but not for me? I see how it is."

She did not spread her legs for _anyone,_ this goddamn piece of shit!

Grabbing the bottle, he took it back into the side room, coming back with another, clear bottle.

Her eyes were riveted upon the light blue liquid, a yearning rising deep within her at the sight of the unspiked bottle. Finally, finally, some relief from the constant thoughts plaguing her. She could feel her heart speeding up, a steady thump in her ears. She wiped wet hair out of her face, reaching for the bottle.

The heavy thump of his fist hitting the desk interrupted her. "Payment first" he growled.

She scrambled for her skirts pocket, grabbing the small coin pouch within.

"I don't want money."

 _What?_ Her heart dropped at the words, staring at him with a dawning horror. He couldn't still want her to… He _couldn't!_ She had the money! She'd sworn never to do anything like that again, not after Morgan had finally saved her!

He lounged back into his leather chair, creaking under his weight. "You know what to do."

"But, I can pay now! I have the money right fucking here!" But it was futile, she could see that. And he _would_ throw her out if she refused, as he had done before.

He looked at her contemptuously. "I don't need your money. Now get to work or get out."

Penelope just looked at him, hands clenching and unclenching. She'd promised, sworn to herself, that she'd never allow this to happen again. She- she was worth more than this! She had more magical ability in her finger than this shitstain could even imagine!

But she could still feel the chill of the Dementors, demanding their food as they made her relive her worst memories, over and over for six months. Relive being raped _over and over again._

She shuddered, shivers creeping down her spine, seeing the _inside of her cell with those black stone walls. The air was foggy, ever on the edge of being unbearable, as the mad ravings of the other prisoners echoed off the walls. Her body started shaking and she could feel the Dementor get-_

The shock of her knees hitting the floor brought her back to reality. Her vision was clouded by tears as she crawled under the desk, wet streaks trailing down her cheeks. Her hands quickly undid the belt, pulling him out. Damn it, damn it, damn it! She needed the drugs, she couldn't do it anymore.

She didn't hesitate, just wanting this over with, taking his warm length into her mouth.

All she could see was Morgan, leaning over her, saying those words that shook her so much. _You are a diamond, Miss Clearwater._ And her _eyes,_ filled with such conviction, showing just how much she meant what she was saying.

She sobbed bitterly as she worked, feeling as though she was betraying the one person to have shown faith in her.

Morgan could never know about this.

* * *

She sat in a dim alley, shielded from the rain, staring at the bottle in her hand. Her reflection could just barely be made out, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, droplets still falling from the corners of her eyes and splashing upon the glass.

It would barely last a week. Merlin, she'd need do that again, she'd-

She could still _taste_ the fucking stuff, the salty, disgusting flavour that would never go away.

One day, _one day,_ she would get revenge on everyone that had caused this. The corrupt ministry that threw her into Azkaban on some old, bullshit law; _him;_ James; all her old friends that spat on her when she asked them for help.

She would get her revenge on every fucking one of them. Once she got stronger...

A fluttering of wings caused her to look up, dashing away her tears as she blinked at the tawny owl hovering above her. The letter in its claws was dropped, landing in her lap before it flew away.

Who would be writing a letter to her? There was only-

Her breath caught, picking up the paper with a shaking hand. It couldn't be-

It was. That handwriting, smooth and flowing, penning her name to the envelope. That was Morgan's handwriting.

For a moment, she was certain Morgan knew what she had just done, that she had written a letter telling her how ashamed she was, how disgusted she was to see what Penelope was really like.

With a thick throat, she opened it, barely able to keep her hands under control. Reading it, she sagged in relief, feeling a weight lifting from her shoulders.

She could hardly believe it. Barely a day had passed and she already had access to the library, through Morgan anyway. She'd need to put together a list or something.

Then the guilt hit, harder than ever, almost breaking her. Morgan was getting her access to the greatest library in Britain while she was sucking dick for drugs like a worthless whore. Her face scrunched up, ready to break into tears once again, before she shook it off.

She would just have to work harder to prove herself.

Rita, huh? She smiled viciously, standing up and stretching, dusting off her navy skirt. She supposed paying her a visit was one way to lift her spirits. Truthfully, she didn't hate Rita that much anymore, not after the other night. Her friends would have turned on her anyway, she should have seen it before, should have seen the poison hidden beneath the surface.

But that didn't mean she was blameless, she still made the problem worse, and until she got her hands on the others, beating up on the child-fucker would have to do.

* * *

What was the point anymore?

Rita stared at the empty bottle, listless. With a lazy wave, she threw the bottle away, clanging as it fell onto the floor and rolled away from the sofa, joining all the others that were strewn around the living room.

This was her life now, wasn't it? To be used, squeezed for all her worth, before being thrown away. All her aspirations, gone. All her precautions, worthless. She'd worked so hard, and it all turned out to be for someone else, in the end.

She stared at the ceiling, bitter. She had tried, but failed, to feel any hope for the future. She was trapped, under the thumb of some unknown.

And that was the main problem, wasn't it? She didn't even know who her new 'master' was. An eleven year-old? What a joke, there was no way.

One of the two figures that she hadn't seen the face of. Possible, but who were they? She'd never seen their faces, she only knew one was a man and one a woman called Maria.

And more importantly, who had sold her out? Who had discovered her animagus form? Bozo? Someone from the Prophet?

She didn't know. No matter how hard she thought, she couldn't find a way out. She didn't even know who she had to look out for. It could be anyone, anyone she'd ever met or wronged in some way.

And even if she did know, what then? It didn't change the situation, they still knew her animagus form. With just that she was trapped, but with the recording...

The recording. Just the thought made her feel queasy. She'd slept with an eleven year-old, _slept_ with a _child._ If anyone ever knew, she'd be lynched, her career would be finished. Potion or not, no one would care, not for her.

And she couldn't stop thinking about it. Even though the potions effect was gone, it was difficult to regret what she'd _felt_ while under it. All she could remember was how good she had felt, how attractive she had found the girl, how much she loved the little moans and squeals…

Merlin, why couldn't she stop thinking about it! She wasn't under the effects anymore, she'd had herself checked!

So why did the memories still make her feel so aroused!? What the hell was wrong with her!? She wasn't even gay!

She needed another drink.

Unfortunately, before she was able to even get up for one, she heard knocking from down the hallway, coming from her front door.

She froze, heart pounding. She'd taken the day off, so it probably wasn't work. It- it could still be-

"I know you're in there, you child-fucking slut! Open the door!"

Penelope. She could feel chills throughout her body, mind once again going back to that horrible night, to the parts that she _didn't_ enjoy remembering. Why- why was she here!

She didn't want to move, she wanted to freeze up on the sofa and hope, pray, that she went away, but-

"Don't make me get my toys~"

She jumped up, slipping on the smooth wooden floor, the alcohol getting to her. Scrambling, she practically ran to the door.

Her teeth were still aching and back still stinging. She wouldn't go through that again, not again!

The large ornate doors, inset with coloured glass depicting a blue flower, were thrown open, almost tripping over herself in her haste.

A slap greeted her, knocking her to the ground. She cried, clutching her stinging cheek as she looked up at Penelope, grinning at her with a malicious delight. "Next time I ask you to open the door, you do it immediately, got it?"

Rita nodded frantically, standing and shutting the door as Penelope strode into her home.

She wished, wished so badly, that she had never wrote that article. But how was she to know? It was just meant to be an easy job, one she was getting paid a large amount of money for. Someone had wanted Penelope buried and Rita had been all too willing to go along with it.

And now, here she was, the- the _bitch_ of a teenager.

She picked up her glasses that had been knocked to the floor, following Penelope into her living room, freezing when she saw the look of disgust on her face. "Fucking disgusting" she said, looking at Rita like she smelled something rotten.

Rita flushed, looking around at all the empty bottles and food wrappers covering the room. "W-what do you want?"

Another slap hit her cheek, the stinging finally causing tears to finally fall as she stood there.

"That's not how you ask me something. Ask me _properly,_ as I taught you."

"H-how can I help you, miss?" she weeped. She'd once been on top of the world, but now she was _this._ This pathetic mess that had to scrape at the heel of a fifteen year-old.

She'd thought she was prepared for the potential risks of what she was doing, but she wasn't, not by far.

Penelope sneered at her. "That's better. Morgan sent me a letter, says it's time to show you the carrot or something. Here" she said, thrusting a small slip of folded paper into her hand.

Carrot and stick, an old muggle phrase. What sort of carrot could be used to justify such a big stick?

But as she read, she felt the light of hope kindle ever so faintly within her. The pain of the slap diminished into nothing in the face of the sheer _potential._

This- if this was true, if Dumbledore really did once side with Grindlewald, if he really did once dream of doing this…

She'd become one of the most famous people in journalism, worldwide. The one who exposed the darkness hidden within the so-called greatest wizard of modern times. It might even make all this worth it.

Her mouth was dry as she stood tall, demeanor entirely different. A quick spell and she was entirely sober and clean, bustling about as she gathered her things. She could already see the fame she would achieve if this was true, could see the money flowing in from the book she could publish.

"Well? Don't just stand there girl! Do you know what this means? Morgan says you need to help me, so come on, we've got interviews to do!"

All the previous abuse was suppressed, squashed into a corner and locked away. Nothing would get in the way of this, not even her own feelings.

Penelope was gawking at her. Stupid girl, did she not see what this could mean? "What…" she mumbled oafishly.

Rita grabbed her by the hand, dragging her out of the house and into the rain, beyond the anti-apparition charm, lush grass stretching out in all directions from her mansion. "I know you don't like me, and I'm sorry for that. If I could, I'd take it back. But this is not the time!"

Penelope was still just blinking at her as she twisted, apparating them away.

* * *

Huh, why are all the characters I write so broken? Ah, right, that's the world they live in. At least Rita can bounce back quickly, the damn weeble.


	16. Chapter 16

Ch16

The lessons of Hogwarts were, it seemed, a bit of a hit-and-miss. None of them were bad, exactly, but… Herbology? Astronomy? She just couldn't care less, not when she had so much to do. Sure, there were interesting things, like plants needing to be grown in magically-rich soil, and the effect the stars could have upon a plant at the moment of harvesting, but overall it wasn't what she was interested in.

History and potions she found more interesting, but still rather pointless for her. Snape was… a decent teacher, despite his personality. The lesson seemed to focus more on the practical skills of making a potion, with theory being set as homework. Given the explosive results of some students, it wasn't hard to see why he seemed so stressed.

Likewise, Binns wasn't anywhere near as bad as she had expected. She found his lessons rather interesting, though the other children seemed… less than enthusiastic. The novelty of being taught by an actual ghost had worn of rather quickly.

Transfiguration, while useful for revision, was simply behind where she was. She practically lived with her wand in her hand. If she had a free moment, she would be trying a spell, or reading up on magic.

Transfiguring a match into a needle? Something that took Hermione a couple hours to do in canon, when she had barely any training in magic? Please, give her some credit. She had already gone beyond that from her own practice.

Hufflepuff shared transfiguration with the Gryffindors, and Morgan had found herself sharing a desk with Hermione at the front of the classroom. It seemed that whenever Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were paired together, she and Hermione would be partners.

Well, it wasn't as though she had a problem with that. She hadn't exactly been socialising with her House much, given that they were eleven. Leanne and Megan had paired together, so she would have had to pair with a boy if she wanted to work with someone from Hufflepuff.

But, well, girls have cooties, obviously. The boys preferred to work with other boys, even from other Houses.

She watched the cat sitting upon the teacher's desk with amusement. Black, with white marks around the eyes resembling McGonagall's glasses. It was a wonder no one had noticed.

"This can't be right" mumbled Hermione. "It doesn't seem like Professor McGonagall to be late for class."

"Oh, I wonder. Wherever could she be? I'm sure she's around here somewhere." She raised her eyebrow at McGonagalls animagus form. Really, it was hardly subtle.

McGonagall had evidently decided it was time to reveal herself, jumping into the air and morphing into a human mid-leap, landing upon two legs.

The surprised gasps from the children were rather amusing, she had to admit.

"Welcome, students, to Transfiguration. As you are all aware, I am Professor McGonagall." She looked similarly amused, her usual stern expression softening as she looked over them all. No doubt one of the little things that made teaching more bearable.

Hermione's arm shot into the air, the girl practically bouncing in her seat.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"What _was_ that? How did you do it? Will we be learning how to do that?" she asked, words tumbling from her lips in her excitement.

"That, Miss Granger, is called the Animagus transformation, and is very advanced, complex magic. Should you become skilled enough, then it is possible you may learn how."

Hmm, Morgan had to wonder exactly how skilled you needed to be if Pettigrew could become one in his fifth year.

"I'm gonna be a Nundu…" she heard Hannah whisper from behind her, followed by Susan's dreamy whisper of "Unicorn…"

McGonagall flashed them a small smile, before her expression firmed. "Now, students, before we begin, it must be made very clear that transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts." Holding up her hand for them all to see, a match shimmered itself into a needle, before the tip suddenly exploded into long spikes of metal, bristling as they watched. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then the lesson began, McGonagall explaining some of the basic theory. A match was distributed for each of them, with the task to try and turn it into a needle by the end of the lesson.

One of the rather more… interesting aspects of transfiguration was what made some things easier or harder to transfigure something into. It didn't just rely upon the material similarities, such as the shape of a match and needle. There was a more… metaphorical aspect.

Turning a quill into a pen would be much easier than turning a quill into a pencil. A match could be turned into a needle more readily because of the pricking of the flame, or even from the forging of the steel from fire.

She waved her wand and muttered the incantation, watching in fascination as the match became silver and pointy. Ah~, but magic would never get old, that was for sure.

"How did you do that so quickly?" asked Hermione, peering at her needle with wide, curious eyes.

"Oh? I'm just that good, Miss Granger." Unsaid was the insinuation that Hermione therefore _wasn't_ that good. And… yep, there she went, back straightening as she bristled, lips firming stubbornly. Rather competitive then.

McGonagall came to stand next to her desk, looking down upon her work with an inscrutable expression looking down at her work with an unpleasant look behind her glasses. Oh my, doesn't she know that if the wind changes, she'll be stuck like that? She gave her a wink, causing McGonagall's face to tighten. She still wasn't used to how young McGonagall looked. "One point to Hufflepuff, Miss Fay" she said, before stiffly walking away, pacing the aisle between the two rows of desks.

Ah, how amusing. She was so high-strung around her, it was hilarious. "Only one point? Take note, Miss Granger. It's not only Professor Snape that shows blatant favouritism." If her voice had been a little loud when she said that… Well, the slight pause of McGonagall and the sound of a deep breath being taken was something she enjoyed immensely.

Hermione's eyes flashed. "Hogwarts professors would not show favouritism!"

Morgan chuckled slightly, which seemed to upset Hermione further. "How cute. I'd have thought you'd be a little wiser, given your upbringing." But no, even being an orphan in a world heavily anti-muggleborn had not seemed to cut down her view of authority figures. She must have gone to a better orphanage than her own. Only a fool of unseen calabre would idolise authority if they had those workers looking over them.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her before turning away in a huff, jabbing her wand and chanting the spell. Over time Hermione was slowly becoming better, the wood shaping itself into a pointier and pointier form.

But she had a flash of amusement, watching her make the movements. "You're doing it wrong" she said, leaning her head onto her hand.

Hermione seemed to jerk, looking at her angrily. "And how would you…" she trailed off as her eyes flicked from Morgan's needle to her smiling face.

"Oh, I don't know. Why, it's almost as though I know how to perform the spell." She was enjoying prodding Hermione like this. She just seemed so tense, Morgan couldn't resist. "Here, it's like this." She grabbed Hermione's hand, taking her slowly through the wand movements.

The next time Hermione tried the spell, it was a lot better, which just seemed to rankle Hermione more, the poor dear. "No thanks, Miss Granger? How rude."

For a second, she was quiet, staring down at her half-match, half-needle. "Thank you" she mumbled, before going back to ignoring her, working on her match with a sour expression. She really didn't like being second best, did she?

Truthfully, she didn't really know how to treat Hermione. She probably shouldn't be jabbing at her like this, but really, how could she resist? She could befriend the lonely girl, but… Well, Harry needed to be her friend, she didn't want to risk ruining that. And if canon went as planned, then she would have her chance to acquire Hermione.

But that was if. A gamble, one that may not work out. For all she knew, Hermione might be crushed like a grape. Perhaps it would be better to befriend her, before anyone else.

But she wanted something a little more… concrete. Hermione was her primary recruitment target, if she had to take risks to get the girl more permanently, then she would. If she planned to take the world, then taking chances was necessary.

Eyeing Hermione, she took a moment to marvel at just how different she looked to Emma Watson. Her hair was very bushy, spiralling in tight ringlets, frizz marking a significant lack of care. And, though she couldn't see them at the moment, she knew her front teeth were simply too large for her small mouth. And her clothes…

Her skirt seemed too big for her, going below the knees and fraying at the edges. The red lining of her robe seemed muted, washed out in a way that, say, Harry's didn't, with its vibrant crimson.

Everything was just… shabby. There was potential there, should she shrink her teeth, fix her hair and start wearing decent clothes. But at the moment…

Ahh, but she wanted her _now._ The things she could do when she was still so young. It would be so easy to twist her into what she wanted her to be, to control her and make that potential hers. Oh well, she would just have to wait...

Hermione was practicing the spell with vigour, seemingly encouraged by her taunting. Morgan, however, would just have to do as she always did and teach herself, since it seemed extra material wasn't forthcoming. She would just have to get creative with this spell, maybe try to create a fancier needle or something.

As she and Hermione worked in silence, her eye caught on something. Hermione's wand looked… wrong. She couldn't remember what her wand actually looked like, but she was certain that wasn't it. Wasn't her wand made of vine wood? "Hmm, what wood is that?"

"Poplar" came Hermione's reply, short and clipped as she focused on her match, having it about halfway turned into a needle.

Hmm, so was it her personality that changed, or...

"Ah, did you get it from Ollivanders?"

Hermione stiffened, turning a baleful eye on her. "I hardly see how that is any of your business."

With a prickly reply like that, she hadn't gotten her wand from Ollivanders. She probably hadn't been able to afford one. Her wand didn't look bad, far from it, but…

Well, the lesson was coming to a close soon, and by Morgan's estimate, Hermione would need an extra half hour to complete the spell, when in canon she'd gotten it in class. She might be misremembering, but it was better to assume she wasn't, in this case. And the most likely reason was the wand.

That said, Hermione still seemed to be in the upper tiers of the class, in fact she was still better than everyone else. Zacharias and Parvati seemed close, but that was it. Mildly depressing, actually, since it meant the next lesson would probably be similar to this one.

And really, Hermione. With replies like that, it's no wonder she was forced to sit next to Morgan.

"How are you so far ahead? No one else even managed the spell" asked Hermione as they packed their books away. She was eyeing her multicolour needle with suspicion, eyes flicking to the half-match, half-needles of the other students.

Morgan sighed. Well, she supposed she should give a serious answer, lest the girl blow a fuse. "Practice, Miss Granger. I've had my wand a month now, you don't think I left it lying around, do you?"

Hermione straightened up, clutching her bag to her chest. "We're not allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts."

She raised an eyebrow at the statement. "Yes, we are. Who- Ah, of course, you're a muggleborn orphan. Miss Granger, you really should learn not to trust what people say like that. This world is not kind to muggleborns."

"What would you know about that?" snapped Hermione.

"Oh Miss Granger" she said, shaking her head. "I know plenty, because I am one."

A frown pinched Hermione's face as she looked her over. "You're an orphan? But…"

"Surprised? Think I was some pureblood, coasting on my parents' money?"

A slight flush appeared on Hermione's face. Well then, at least Morgan knew for sure that all her money had been well spent.

"Then how…" Hermione gestured at her attire.

"Didn't I say it before? I'm just that good, Miss Granger." She gave Hermione a smug smile, before leaving her to stew in her annoyance. As she walked away though, she spotted something… Infuriating.

Harry's match. His match, that was barely beginning to make its transition into a needle. He would have been better spent sharpening the thing with his teeth, such was the change in shape.

Was… was this canon? Did Harry ever even use a transfiguration spell in canon? He passed his OWL's, so surely he couldn't be this bad.

Yet here the evidence was, one barely pointed match sitting on his desk. Jesus, the only one who could potentially kill Voldemort was scarcely better than Neville, a joke who clearly got accepted on his family name only.

Clearly, he wasn't taking this seriously, but she was inclined to let it go for now.

There wasn't much point worrying over someone who might be dead by the end of the year.

* * *

She had to admit, she was surprised to find that Filch was still alive. Pleasantly surprised, actually. He would be the first muggle she had seen since their genocide.

It was late evening and a quick word to the black bird that had taken a liking to her had it leading her to Filch's office, flitting from painting to painting.

Unsurprisingly, his office was located in the dungeons, the door almost hidden in the gloom of the corridor, lit by only a small lantern. It looked beaten, ugly, out of place amongst the grandeur of Hogwarts; dark, gnarled wood surrounded by pristine walls.

Fitting, really.

The door opened with a simple touch of her fingers, the unlocking charm opening it with ease, the heavy creak of old wood filling the air and revealing the room beyond.

It was dark, only the light of the corridor to bring some illumination. A fireplace took up a spot on a wall to the left, cold and unlit. With a flick of her hand and some power, a small flame rose up, soon crackling along the wood and casting warmth and light across the room.

It was actually rather comely, once she got a good look at it. With a beaten but comfortable looking couch, desk and chair, as well as various personal items. A poster here, a photograph there, they served to give the room some character.

Pausing, she took a moment to look at the photograph within a beautiful silver frame upon the fireplaces mantle piece. A younger and more handsome Filch, head full of hair, stood smiling at the camera, a woman held in his arms and gazing at him with tender love. Below there was a cat, winding it's way between her legs, its fur a motley collection of brown stripes.

Even Filch had someone, once upon a time.

Well, she supposed there was no point standing around. There were a few trunks scattered around the room, and those were her first target. Searching them revealed various odds and ends, prank items and other such things, no doubt on the list of banned items.

But no map. A quick search of the desk left her similarly unsatisfied. Sighing, she sat upon the couch, contemplating.

If the map wasn't here, then the twins had it. That meant she'd have to steal it, another annoyance she couldn't be bothered with.

Or maybe buy it from them, but she was loath to part with gold when she need not, especially considering all the hard work and care that went into acquiring it.

She was distracted from her thoughts by a cat jumping up onto the couch, meowing at her. A mix of dark and light brown stripes, similar to the one in the photo, it purred as she rubbed its head, frowning at it.

Well, Miss Norris was hardly the evil cat she had expected, but she couldn't even be sure if that was actually a thing in canon.

On the other hand, all cats were secretly evil, plotting to ruin her sofa with their sharp claws, to terrorise her with their wailing at five in the morning, and their attempts to poison her with their diseased little 'treats.'

No, she wasn't bitter, at all. She didn't care how adorable its purring was, or how much her sister-

She cut off that thought, sighing as Miss Norris climbed into her lap, stroking her behind the ears, the thick fur warm between her fingers.

She'd left the door open, allowing the cat in. And where Miss Norris went, well…

From the hallway, she heard the heavy footsteps of Filch approaching the room.

Morgan merely waited, scratching Miss Norris behind her ears. Filch was hardly a scary person, unless you were twelve.

"Oh? What's all this then? Another student, poking their heads where they ought not?" he said, his voice a rough timbre. "Well?! What excuse will I hear this time?!" He stepped forcefully into the room, eyeing her balefully. Between his hands was strip of leather, twisting and stretching between his hands.

"Mr Filch." She inclined her head, not moving an inch, an easy smile on her face. Filch looked… worn, standing there in an old, grey-blue coat. Thin hair covered the top of his head and fell to his shoulders in limp, grey strands, his face lined with weary wrinkles. It bore no remnant of the handsomeness within the photo, his patchy stubble a testament to his lack of care.

"Breaking and entering, is it? Back in my day, that would have gotten you whipped…" he growled, stepping towards her slowly, sneering at her. "I think I still have them around here somewhere…" The strip of leather creaked with an extra-strong twist, punctuating his words.

Such a pity, he'd gone senile. Only dementia could explain his belief that she would be scared of him.

"Well? What do you think you're doing, girl?" He was looming over her now, a menacing figure in the firelight.

She scratched Miss Norris more sharpy, causing her to mewl. Filch finally seemed to take notice of her, eyebrow twitching slightly in surprise.

Morgan merely raised an eyebrow at his towering figure. "Oh my, the caretaker has caught me, whatever shall I do? Someone save me, he's so menacing." Her sarcasm could cut steel, such was its strength.

He frowned slightly, before his face was back to sneering. "Think this is some game, eh? Oh yes, I know just the thing for cocky girls like you. Hang you by the wrists for a few days, that's what I ought to do…"

She couldn't help it, she laughed, high-pitched and mocking. Truly, did he think she would be scared? By _him?_ How hilarious.

His face turned furious. "Think this is funny, do you!? Think I'm joking, eh? Look over there" he said, pointing towards a dark corner, where Morgan could see the dull iron gleam of chains nailed to the ceiling. "I make sure to keep the chains well-oiled, just for kids like you…"

A sharp smile spread her lips, teeth showing faintly. "Kinky. But I do wonder…" she paused for a little dramatic effect, "how on earth will a powerless _muggle_ get me into said chains?"

Shock reflected in his dull grey eyes, the skin around his eyes tightening and his face turning a shade paler. She could almost hear his heartbeat, alarm lending it strength.

"You… What are you-"

"Come now, do you think me so blind?" she asked, cutting him off. "You use a mop, Mr Filch. Only a muggle would do that."

For a moment, they just looked at each other, orange eyes into his dull grey. Then, he grimaced. "Blasted kids these days" he grumbled, placing the leather strap into a pocket. "Guess there's no point keeping this act up then."

Act? Morgan watched in frank bewilderment as he walked away, throwing his coat onto a peg nailed into the door. Underneath was a sleeveless suit jacket, covering a white shirt and black tie. It was actually rather smart, especially compared to that ratty coat, dispelling the dark air he'd held.

So all that, the threats, the menacing, it was all an act? Why-

"Ah" she let out as the revelation hit. "You've got to have some way of keeping students in line, don't you? And without a wand, that just leaves…"

Fear.

How… delightful. It had been such a long time since she'd seen a decent bit of theatre. It might not be a grand play or anything similar, but it was entertaining all the same. To think that no one noticed what he was…

"What did you come here for, girl? Come to taunt me that you'd figured it all out?" He asked, a bitter tone to his voice as he sat in a chair he placed across from her.

Morgan's lips twitched as she examined him. "Taunt? No, the fact that you are a muggle is a good thing, I rather like muggles. Perhaps I came down here merely to meet one."

"And perhaps I'm Gilderoy Lockhart" he grunted. "Now what do you really want? I don't have the patience to play zoo animal."

Oh well. It was actually a reason, but it wasn't surprising he didn't believe it. It had been so long since she'd seen one, so _long_ since she'd had any connection to muggle civilisation that wasn't the remains of a dead city, she'd been rather eager when she learned he was still alive. And to learn that the scary janitor was merely an act, well, that just made everything better.

"You seem awfully unconcerned, are you not worried I'll tell everyone what you are?"

"I wouldn't be talking to you if I wasn't. To be found out because of a mop…" He shook his head, grimacing. "And I'm a squib, not a muggle" he said sharply.

She waved him off. "Technicalities." She considered him for a moment. Having his identity as a squib being revealed would no doubt cause him some trouble, not that she actually had any intention of doing so. It would ruin the fun of seeing her peers get frightened by a powerless old man putting up an act.

She sighed, standing as Miss Norris jumped to the floor. "I don't suppose it matters since it isn't here, but I was looking for an item. A piece of parchment, that probably insulted you a lot." A look of recognition flashed on his face. "Hmm, so I was right, it was here before. If it's not here, then there's not much reason for me to stay much longer tonight. Although..." she paused, thinking. "Perhaps you'd like to help me acquire it? In exchange for my silence? I'm fairly sure I know who has it, and you may not even need to do anything if things go well."

"Do I get a choice?" he asked grimly.

She laughed, standing up and walking next to him. "That's up to you" she said, patting him upon the head in the most condescending manner she could. Ah, it was so nice to have people under her thumb, it just _did_ things for her. "I'll see you around, Mr Filch."

But, as she was about to leave the room, a hand grabbed her by the head, holding her in place. "Hold it" he growled. "You don't think you can just walk in here without punishment, do you? Come on, let's go get you a detention."

He- he ruined her dramatic exit. You can't just _do_ that. What was even the point of blackmailing someone if you couldn't act it up a little?

Well, evidently he could, given the way the uncultured savage marched her to Professor Sprout, ignoring her threats.

She was living amongst barbarians. Next thing you know, they'll be interrupting her gloating when she's grinding an opponent beneath her feet.

It was official, decent civilisation was truly dead.

* * *

Wow, it's been long time huh? I've just been really busy lately, kind of killed my motivation for a while, but hopefully I should be back to normal now.

Not really happy with this chapter, I feel like I could do it a lot better, but I just want to get it out at this point and move on. Maybe in the future I'll go back and edit it more to my liking, but for now it will do the job, it gets the point across.


	17. Chapter 17

" _Colovaria"_ Morgan muttered, tapping her robe with her wand. With a shimmer, the gold lining washed away into a deep crimson, same as any other Gryffindors. The spell wouldn't last long - she wasn't skilled enough to make it last for more than an hour yet - but it would be enough.

Then she merely waited, around the corner from where the fat lady's portrait hung concealing the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, looking like nothing more than your average Gryffindor first year.

Unless she was mistaken, the Gryffindor third years we're currently in potions class. Of all the times when the map would be within the twins' room, this was the most likely. It was hard to imagine them taking the map into Snape's dungeon.

It wasn't hard to follow another student into the common room, though the fat lady did give her a bit of a suspicious look. That was why she had to do this now, while everyone was still unfamiliar with the first years. As long as she avoided them, there should be no problems.

Hm, the Gryffindor Tower wasn't a bad place. Indeed, she would have had no complaints had she been sorted a Gryffindor. Plush, burgundy chairs were dotted around the circular room, placed around either tables or the fireplace, a thick carpet muffling her footsteps as she walked into the room. Crimson tapestries hung from the walls, emblazoned with bright gold lions and small, silver swords.

It was comfortable, yet tinged by nobility. It had a grandeur that was lacking in the relatively humble Hufflepuff common room. Especially the static portrait of Godric Gryffindor hanging above the fireplace, looking down upon her with a stern look. There was no consciousness - none of the founders had living portraits of themselves - but it lent a certain air of history to the room regardless.

She gave a small smile to the few occupants of the room that bothered to glance at her, before spinning on her heel and striding towards the stairs to the boys dormitories.

Confidence, that was all it took. Merely acting like she belonged to House Gryffindor allowed her to walk throughout without challenge. Godric was probably rolling in his grave.

She had no trouble walking up the steps, not that she expected any. It was a foolish idea that boys couldn't enter the girls' dorms while girls could enter the boys', a carry over from centuries ago that was only implemented within Gryffindor, thanks to Godric. Still, she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

The third years dorm was the third door up and was, as she expected, empty. It was a fairly standard room, she wasn't surprised there. But there was one thing that annoyed her.

The room was practically spotless. The house elves didn't clean the bedrooms, that was up to the occupants alone. Oh, they would wash laundry and bed sheets etc, but only after you yourself had placed them in the laundry room.

She glared at it. How was it that a room with half a dozen teenage boys managed to be cleaner than hers?

No, wait, she knew the answer to that one. She'd thought it might be normal for children to be messy - Su notwithstanding - but clearly she'd been too _lenient_ with them. No, with _her_. She and Hannah would be having a few quiet words after this.

Well, she guessed she should get started, since there was no telling exactly what time someone could return.

It took her awhile, but she managed to find the map, hidden under one of the pillows on a bed. It was probably too much to hope that the twins hadn't figured out what it was yet, but oh well.

She gazed at it hungrily, eyes gleaming with glee and her hands shaking slightly with excitement. The parchment was yellow and crisp beneath her fingers, smelling like old books.

The poor fools. Did they have any idea of what this was worth? And to think, they were using it to _prank_ people. Such a… waste.

A way of tracking the locations of _everyone_ in the castle. A wide smile rose upon her face as she caressed the parchment. Oh, the plans she had for this map.

She slowly drew her wand from her robe, tapping the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good" she whispered. And slowly, words writ in ink spread across the front.

 _Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_

 _Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers_

 _are proud to present_

 _THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

"Wonderful" she said softly. She could see the locations of _everyone_ , could see every hidden passage and secret entrance. A method of surveillance that was almost absolute, save for the few locations not on the map like the Chamber of Secrets.

There was Dumbledore in his office, Harry in the Great Hall with Ron, Hagrid in his hut out on the edge of the grounds and Filch hiding in a secret hallway near the Fat Lady's portrait. She could even - rather jealously - see Tonks getting laid in the prefects bathroom. Privacy simply didn't exist to someone with this map.

She was so engrossed that it was only thanks for checking the location of Peter Pettigrew that she noticed the Weasley twins entering the Gryffindor common room.

Quickly putting the map in her pocket, she left the room, running into the Weasley twins on the stairs.

They were different from the movies, though not by much. Lankier, with hair the colour of bright copper tousled up messily and a few freckles upon their noses, wearing outfits that matched even down to the individual potion stains upon their shirts. They gave her a puzzled look as she passed, smiling at them.

"What's a girl doing in the boys dorms?" asked one from behind her.

"Don't ask me, I didn't even know girls _could_ go into the boys' dorm."

"We're not allowed into the girls'. Seems a mite unfair now, eh Fred?"

"Right you are. Downright sexist, in fact. We should take this up with McGonagall, tell her we want the same rights the girls get."

"Good idea, we haven't had a detention with her since last year. She must be missing us by now..."

Their voices faded out as she stepped into the common room, heading towards the portrait. It swung open with a touch, the hallway beyond empty.

She supposed she should just keep walking, but… It just didn't feel _right._ Anticlimactic. With them about to discover the missing map, it wouldn't take much to discover she was the one that took it - she wasn't a Gryffindor, after all. The conclusion was obvious, she might as well enjoy the confrontation now, when she could direct it so easily.

So she waited, leaning up against the portrait hole. It took a minute but, as she expected, the twins eventually came running down the stairs looking panicked.

She gave them a grin before jumping beyond the portrait, swinging it shut behind her. Walking at a brisk pace, she smiled as she saw the lining of her robes turn golden, just in time for the twins to burst through the portrait, wands in hand. Two red jets of light shot at her, but she'd already reached a corner, giving them a small wink before they lost sight of each other.

"Well, Mr Filch. Looks like I'll need you after all. Do try not to enjoy this _too_ much."

From completely featureless stretch of wall came Filch, the wall rippling like water as he walked through it. He was smiling, twisting a tough bit of leather between his hands. "No promises" he said.

She waited next to him as the twins ran around the corner. The look on their faces when they saw Filch were simply priceless, quickly paling and mouths gaping into a terrified rictus.

"Wealseys!" shouted Filch, cracking the leather against his palm. "Attacking first years in the hallway now, are you?"

For a second they just stared, before something clicked back into gear. "Shit- this- Filch- this isn't what it looks like!"

"Really? Because it looks to me like you were trying to stun a little girl in the hallway" he growled, glaring fiercely enough that she could almost see the sweat beading their faces.

"She stole from us!"

"Yeah, we just want what she took back!"

Filch looked down at her, raising an eyebrow. "Is that right?"

"They seem to think this parchment here belongs to them" she said, pulling out the map. Their eyes flicked from the map the Filch and back, a slow realisation coming to their faces.

"That's funny. I recognise that parchment. I gave it to you, didn't I?" He slowly looked each twin in the eye, giving them time to sweat as they realised how screwed they were.

This, right here, was easily worth not simply paying them for the map. Really, this was just… so much more satisfying.

"Attacking a first year in the hallway, trying to steal her property. Oh, I think Minerva might like to hear about this. Maybe even get you expelled, wouldn't that be fun."

Now they really were sweating, it was hilarious. If only they knew it was all an act. "Well then, Mr Filch. I'll be heading back to my dorm" she said, grinning at the twins as Filch slowly walked towards them.

They glared at her, expression caught between hate and horror at Filch's advancing grin. With a curtsy - that caused ones wand to twitch at her - she turned on her heel, heading back to the Hufflepuff dorms feeling much happier than when she left.

* * *

She was regretting this already. _Why_ had she chosen to come back to this dorm? It was rapidly becoming a permanent source of anger.

The room was a disaster zone. Hannah and Megan's beds were a mess, she didn't think they'd been made in days. Clothes were scattered across the carpet, seemingly thrown without care for where they landed. She wrinkled her nose as she kicked a used bra out of her path, glaring at dirty clothes strewn around.

It was made worse by the fact that half of it seemed to be her _own_ clothes, which she was certain weren't there when she left.

Leanne and Susan were on their own beds, the former drawing in a notebook while the latter watched her with a pale face, frantically waving her hand towards the main source of her irritation.

The trunk at the foot of her bed was open, her belongings thrown all over as Hannah dug through, seemingly without a care in the world as Morgan stood just behind her.

She could almost feel the goosebumps on her arms as she spotted the shiny black metal buried in her trunk, so far unnoticed. If Hannah had got a hold of that, she could have easily killed herself.

Best to make sure this lesson _stuck_.

"Susan! You've got to come look at this!" Hannah yelled to the frozen Susan, pulling out a pair of… her underwear.

She pinched her nose, breathing deeply. Couldn't kill nosey little girls for doing what she should have anticipated. If she repeated that long enough, maybe it would stop sounding so appealing.

"Woah" she breathed. "I didn't even know they made stuff like this for kids."

Morgan leaned down until her head was next to Hannah's, watching as she stretched the lacey black knickers between her hands. "They don't. But with enough gold, well, Madam Malkin was perfectly willing to have some tailor made" she said, as though commenting on the weather.

Hannah nodded, a curious frown on her face. "I don't get it. It's not like anyone's going to see them. Why would Morgan want to-" she froze, turning to look at her like a deer caught in some headlights.

She plucked them from her hand. "Well, to answer your questions, I wouldn't say no-one will ever see them. And I _like_ wearing attractive underwear." She looked at Hannah, taking in her frozen form. "Hmm? What's wrong, Miss Abbott? Please, help yourself. You seemed to be having so much fun digging through _my belongings"_ she finished sharply.

Hannah at least had the grace to look guilty. She stuttered, fumbling for a response before turning to Susan. "Susan! I thought you were keeping watch…" she whined.

Susan shook her head at Morgan's unamused face. "I told her not to! I told her it was wrong, she just wouldn't listen!"

Morgan sighed, glaring at Hannah fidgeting nervously. "Well Miss Abbott? Don't you have something to say?"

"Err, umm, I'm sorry?"

"You're… sorry? Do you know, Miss Abbott, that I was having a really good day today? I came back to this room in a good mood, and you know what I found?" She grabbed Hannah's head, slowly turning it towards the mess scattered throughout the room. "This room, _my_ room, is a dump. And to top it off, half of this mess is apparently mine, and I don't remember causing it. _Someone_ appears to have thrown my clothes all over the room _while prying through my trunk like a common thief._ "

Happily, Hannah was looking more and more ashamed the longer she talked. It was a little soothing.

Grabbing her by her cheeks, Morgan pulled her in close. "So, you say you're sorry? Then I suppose you'll be happy to make it up to me, no?" she said, squeezing Hannah's cheeks until her lips were squished into a pout.

She quickly nodded.

"Wonderful. Then you can start by cleaning up the entire room. Make the beds, put the clothes away, I want this room spotless" she said, letting go.

Hannah took a relieved breath before realisation flashed in her eyes, blurting "But I can't! I don't know how!"

Didn't know how? She was asking her to clean up, how can you not know how? She could only blink at her, unable to accept what she had just heard. "You… don't know how?"

Frantic nodding was Hannah's response. "I haven't been taught those spells yet."

She could almost feel something snapping inside her, her face going completely blank. Slowly, she pulled Hannah close, reaching up and lightly wrapping her hands around her neck. "Miss Abbott" she started, voice dark, "you either figure it out _using your hands_ or I swear on God's name that I will _throttle you._ "

"Okay! Understood! I'll do it! Please stop glaring! _Oh Merlin look at her face. Susan, I think she's gonna eat me!"_

Hannah practically vanished from her grip, buzzing around the room and tidying as fast as she could.

Morgan could feel her hands shaking slightly, clenching and unclenching them. She hadn't expected sharing a room with young girls to be such a miserable experience. She could never seem to just… _relax._ To have a moment to herself. If she was reading a book, then she got constant questions about it from Susan. If she was practicing magic, then _everyone_ would gather to bug her about it. And worst of all, whenever she tried to… enjoy some privacy, then _someone_ would hear her and barge in to ask if she was okay, whether she was in her bed with the curtains drawn or in the shower. She hadn't been this frustrated in years. If it wasn't for an experiment she was running on Maria, she would have used the map and gone to spend some time with her.

 _Children,_ honestly. There was a reason she had planned on waiting a couple years before making friends with any of them.

As though God had heard her exasperation, the door to the dorm flew open, allowing another annoyance to storm in.

She bet it was raining as well, just to completely crush her good mood.

Megan was _filthy._ Wearing a blue Quidditch outfit - of a team she assumed was her older sisters - she quickly began stripping herself and throwing muddy clothes in all directions.

Megan was a very outdoorsy person. Her older sister had encouraged a love for Quidditch within her, inspiring her own dreams to be a professional player. It was just a shame that she hadn't also taught her about _hygiene._

Watching her put on clean clothes when her body was filthy was going to give her an aneurysm.

She threw her arm over Megan's shoulder. "Miss Jones~" she crooned. "Don't you think you should get a shower before getting changed?"

Megan frowned at her. "I don't need one" she said, turning her nose up.

"Oh?"

"I'm just going to get dirty again, so there's no point."

She was in hell. All she could do was gape at such… such _childish_ logic. Whoever raised her should be crucified. And now that she looked…

Megan was a tall girl, at least half a head higher than herself, with a slim figure that was more toned than a normal child's. But her hair… It had always seemed rather messy. Like a pitch black nest for birds to roost in. She'd assumed it was just her natural hair, but with a closer look she could see it was actually grease that was causing it.

Children were animals.

"Have you… have you been in the shower even _once_ since you got here?" Her power was roiling within her. She just wanted to burn the filth off the little cretin. But she was just eleven. She just had to keep chanting that in her mind.

She got a proud look on her face. "Nope. I don't want one. I hate them! And now my mom isn't here to make me take one."

She didn't look so proud when Morgan dragged her by her greasy hair kicking and screaming to the bath and practically drowned her in it.

* * *

Godric's Hollow was a small village, nestled in the English countryside amongst low-rolling hills and grassland. Once mostly Muggle occupied, the houses were now lived in by wealthier wizardkind families, attracted by the villages history.

It had been changed though. The smooth asphalt and concrete roads of the muggles had been replaced by tight-fitted cobblestone, with the houses having been renovated into an old look that was quickly becoming popular throughout the country.

There weren't many people about in the evening light. The few that were barely gave her a passing glance, but even that was enough to make her feel greasy when it came from a man.

Memories were once again flitting to the front of her mind, so Penelope turned to Rita for a distraction. Unlike her own outfit - a knee length navy skirt and concealing silver jumper - Rita was dressed much more revealingly, in a lime green skirt that came to mid thigh and matching button-up blouse showing a small amount of cleavage, carrying a red handbag.

"You seem pretty fucking happy compared to earlier" she said. Compared to the drunkard that had opened the door and weeped at a little slap, the current Rita stood tall and confident, her heels even making her taller than herself.

Rita glanced sharply at her from behind her rhinestone studded glasses, lips bright with red lipstick sneering at her. "Of course I do you silly girl. Do you know what this is? What this story represents?" Her eyes gained a faraway look. "Fame, fortune, if this story is true then nothing will be beyond my reach. Dumbledore: Secret lover and inspiration of Grindelwald? Dumbledore: Dark Lord?" Her face took on a flushed look, eyes bright with excitement. "Ooh~, The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore…" She shook her head, focusing back upon Penelope. "This story is what I've been waiting for my entire life."

"Worth what Morgan did to you?" she asked, disturbingly fascinated at the way Rita just… bounced back like she did. It made her a little envious.

"By far" she shot back. "I've done unsavoury things to advance my career before. For a story this big, if it's true, then I would do _worse_ things for it. I _have_ done worse than that. In fact… Yes, what me and Morgan did wasn't particularly unusual in this business. I've done it before… Just another sacrifice to further my career… A little bigger sacrifice, but bigger rewards, right…" she trailed off, mumbling under her breath with glazed eyes.

Penelope could only watch with a sickened expression. Was this what allowed her to bounce back so quickly? Just… rationalising everything away?

Rita snapped out of it as they passed a ruin of a house. The house where Harry Potter became the boy-who-lived, preserved in the same condition as it had been when you-know-who was destroyed.

"I don't understand why he's so famous. What's the point of keeping this shitty little wreck around? It's not like stopping Voldemort changed anything" Penelope spat bitterly.

Rita's head snapped around to glare at her. "Don't say such stupid things." She turned back to look pensively at the ruined house. "You weren't there. You don't understand what it was like. You-know-who…" she said faintly, gripping her handbag in a tight, white-knuckled grip, her face paling with fear.

Jerking, Rita strode over to the next building, a small detached house that still bore it's Muggle appearance. The dark wooden door held a small brass knocker, tarnished and scratched from the years, that she quickly rapped against the door, then pulled out a bright acid green quill and a notebook from her handbag.

It was opened by a short teenager, a young baby-faced boy probably around fourteen, with mousy brown hair, numerous spots, and clothes that looked half slept in. He didn't seem too threatening, but her hand nevertheless instinctively reached into her skirt pocket, gripping the ash wand.

Rita's attitude completely switched at his appearance, flashing a bright smile at his surprised face. "Hi. Rita Skeeter, of The Daily Prophet. Is Bathilda available? I was told she lived here."

A look of fear crossed his face when she mentioned her name. "Err- no, she's not here- I mean, she lives here, but she's not here right now" he stammered out, nervously looking at her quill. She watched as Rita scribbled gibberish upon the paper, not that he could see that.

"I see. That's a shame. Do you know when she'll be back? Or, perhaps, where she went?"

"Umm- no, she just left- I mean, she told me she was going on holiday, and paid me to look after her cat when I'm not at school, but- err- she never said much about it."

"Really? Just up and left one day for a holiday? Seems rather sudden for such an old lady." She punctuated her statement with a sharp swipe of her quill, the boy flinching slightly.

"Well, I mean, she wasn't old anymore" he said, a queasy look on his face. "Chugged a gallon of Malfoys youth potion. She just- like- have you ever _seen_ a wrinkled old lady drink that stuff?"

Rita's notebook snapped close, eyeing up the boy. "I see." Looking contemplative for a moment, she asked "I don't suppose you could invite us in for some tea perhaps? It's been a long day for us, we could use a little refreshment before we headed off."

"Er, I don't think that's a good idea. I mean, not that I think you'll do anything bad!" He quickly said. "It's just, well, she won't be too happy if she ever finds out. She gets really touchy about her privacy…"

Rita paused, eyeing the boy up from head to toe. Then, she smiled, leaning forward to play with the top done up button of her top. "Are you sure?" She asked, voice husky. "We won't be long, and she'll never know. It's only for a quick drink. And I'm sure a young man like yourself could use some company, cooped up here all alone…"

Penelope glared at him as his eyes glued onto the view down Rita's top, gripping her wand tight enough to almost hear the wood creak.

"I guess it's fine…"

"Excellent" she said, straightening up. "After you."

He blinked, seeming to realise what he had been doing and blushing furiously. "Err, right, just follow me."

As they followed him into the hallway beyond the threshold of the door, Penelope could feel the tickle of magic wash over her skin, prickling at her for a moment before disappearing. If what she felt was right, then it was likely an anti-intruder charm of some kind.

He led them into a small living room, leaving them to themselves while he went to make drinks.

There was a sofa and a couple arm chairs around the room, but she kept standing, unwilling to let go of her wand.

She didn't like being kept in a small space like this with a boy, especially one old enough to have _urges._ She felt like a locked bludger, every muscle tense and sense on edge.

"It's true" she heard Rita whisper. She was standing at the fireplace, looking at one of the pictures placed upon it. In it was a handsome teenager, with wavy blonde hair that reached to his shoulders, piercing blue eyes and a well defined face, smiling brightly at them. She locked eyes with the picture and felt her heart beat as his expression went cold, eyes menacing and probing before disappearing as quickly as it came.

Gellert Grindelwald. She remembered his face from her history textbook. The man that was considered the greatest dark lord in the world before Voldemort rose up, currently locked up in Nurmengard.

He was stood with another boy, their arms over each others shoulders as they smiled at the camera. This one had bright ginger hair and twinkling blue eyes, with a more innocent, youthful face than Grindelwald.

Dumbledore. She didn't know how Morgan knew about this, but she supposed she didn't really care.

Rita quickly pulled out her wand, tapping the picture. Her wand tip lit up blue, the picture shimmering as though covered by heat waves, before it seemed to split in two, producing a copy that Rita quickly snapped into her handbag as the boy entered back into the room, holding a tray with small chinaware tea cups placed upon it.

"Thank you" Rita said, smiling as she took a tea cup. Sitting on the sofa, she patted the cushion next to her. "Why don't you sit down. Though I was hoping to interview Bathilda, I would be _very_ grateful for any questions you could answer."

The boy gulped as Rita used her arms to push up her breasts slightly, plopping himself down next to her, struggling to keep his eyes on her face.

She didn't know how he could be so oblivious to the manipulation, but he was a boy, she shouldn't be surprised he was blinded by some sex appeal.

"Now, what can you tell me about Bathilda?"

* * *

Honestly? I can't believe it's been this long again. Life gets away sometimes. For anyone still following, I'm going to try to get more regular updates out from now on.


	18. Chapter 18

Well, perhaps stealing from the twins in such a blatant manner wasn't such a good idea.

Though thinking back on it, she'd do it all again just to see the look on their faces.

She was merely getting a little annoyed at having to deal with them. They'd only just started their third year, so they couldn't really do too much to her, no matter how talented they were. They were just making themselves a nuisance by hitting her with lots of minor curses, like an itching curse that was currently driving her mad.

"I think they may be a little upset with me" Morgan said, face planted into the Hufflepuff table in the great hall. Su was sat next to her, rubbing her fingers through Morgan's hair. She sighed as they brushed over a particularly itchy area.

"You shouldn't have taunted them" Su muttered.

"Probably, but I couldn't resist, and it wouldn't have taken much to find out it was me anyway. Their faces when they ran into Filch…"

A hand chopped lightly into her head. "Idiot" Su said, sighing. "You just made them angrier. Though it serves them right. They shouldn't have had something you wanted."

Turning her head, Morgan peered at Su's face, and sure enough she was glaring across at the Gryffindor table, where the Weasley twins were looking rather dour faced.

They'd been caught trying to sneak into the girls' rooms in Hufflepuff last night. McGonagall's shouting had provided some amusing late night entertainment.

"Come now, there's no need to glare. I know they're annoying, but I know how to deal with them. Just keep rubbing my head before I kill someone."

Su's fingers got back to work, massaging her scalp while Morgan kept her eyes on the twins. Percy Weasley, the new male prefect for Gryffindor, had walked over to them and was lecturing them, pushing up his horn-rimmed glasses in frustration when they shrugged back at him.

She would have to corner him sometime and get his help writing a letter to their mother. No doubt Mrs Weasley would be able to calm them down.

"Come on, we've got flying lessons" said Su.

"Fine, fine" Morgan sighed, picking herself up from the table. "I think the curse's wearing off now anyway."

Together they walked out of the castle and down to the Quidditch stadium, where the rest of their peers were already waiting for them.

Morgan grimaced when she saw the broom laid out at her feet.

"I'm not riding that."

"Nonsense. Every Hogwarts student must learn to ride a broom" said Madam Hooch, bustling along the line of students, giving out brooms one by one.

Morgan disagreed, especially with the broom on the floor by her feet. It looked half broken, it's bristles torn and twisted and a shaft that looked rotten, with a small crack in the middle of it.

"Now then students, when you're ready shout 'Up!'"

"Up!" Came the yells of the students around her, brooms leaping into the hands of some and merely rolling on the ground with others. Harry's had jumped into his hand with a heavy burst of speed that almost knocked his arm up, while Hermione's rolled on the ground, somewhat limply trying to lift itself up.

Longbottom, rather impressively, managed to have his broom jump up past his hand and smack him in the face. Naturally.

"Once you have your brooms, I want you to mount them, but you are not to take off until I say so" she said, walking amongst the students, correcting postures and giving advice here and there. Malfoy looked rather angry when she told him he was using an incorrect posture, despite his earlier claiming of having been riding for years.

Her own broom wisely stayed on the ground. It even looked like it was quivering a little. At least until Hooch flicked her wand and caused the broom the jump into her hand. "There's no use being scared of it. You have to learn to ride it sooner or later" she said sternly, passing her by with a sharp glance from yellow, hawkish eyes beneath a head of short white hair.

She glared at the stick in her hand, feeling a sandpaper-like texture rub at her palm as it shivered in her grip. At least it knew it's eventual fate should she fall off the thing.

Su bumped into her shoulder, somehow _already_ hovering on her own broom next to her. "What's wrong?" she asked, head tilted curiously.

Morgan sent her a baleful look. "Oh, I'm merely contemplating the pros and cons of setting this broom on fire. It would make some wonderful firewood."

She could only sigh and shake her head at the broom. How riding a broomstick became one of the most popular ways of travel she would never understand. It looked ridiculously uncomfortable, especially in a skirt.

"If you don't ride it, you'll just get another detention with Sprout."

"Well, I suppose that _is_ a good point. If I spend any more time with that whale I think I might push her into one of her plants." She wasn't a bad person, she was merely too… compassionate. She kept trying to pry and get her to 'open up', like she was some neglected child acting out for attention.

"Anyway" Morgan started, glancing at the broom Su was floating on. "You seem rather eager. I didn't know you were interested in flying."

Su shrugged. "Not flying. I want to watch Quidditch."

"...Why?"

Su brown eyes lit up, sparkling with excitement as she smiled, turning to gaze out across the Quidditch stadium. "I want to see people get hit by bludgers" she said, sighing somewhat dreamily.

Morgan was surprised for a moment before letting out a small giggle. She supposed, of all the possible reasons to watch Quidditch, that was one of the more… interesting ones. She reached over and rubbed Su on the head affectionately, enjoying the way she leant into her hand.

"Mr. Longbottom? Mr. Longbottom, get down from there! Come down here, right now!" Shouted Hooch.

Over with the Gryffindors was Longbottom, panicking as he lost control of his broom. "I- I can't! It isn't listening to me!" He cried as his broom carried him higher and higher, moving faster and faster in a jerky fashion, as though it were trying to buck him off.

Hooch sighed, pointing her wand at Neville. "There's always one" she said, shaking her head.

Before she could cast a spell however, Longbottom's broom shot downward, slamming him into the ground with a crunch amidst the Slytherin students.

"Come on students, move out the way" said Hooch, pushing her way through the children that had started to crowd around a whimpering Longbottom, who was clutching his arm while sobbing.

After a minute, she pulled him to his feet. "Not to worry. Poppy will have you fixed up in a minute. Come on, let's go." Looking over her shoulder at all the gathered students, Hooch said "Any student that's either flying around or isn't here when I her back will be getting seen to by their Head of House." Then she turned around, dragging a still crying Longbottom that was cradling his arm back up to the castle.

"I didn't get to see it" Su said, pouting, her eyes having been closed as she enjoyed Morgan's hand rubbing her head.

Morgan smiled, watching them walk up to the castle with a vicious look in her eye. "Oh, don't worry Su. Why, I'm sure you can push him down some stairs or something. God knows he's stupid enough to fall down some anyway."

Over with the Slytherin's she saw Malfoy walking forward, reaching down to pick something off the floor.

With a close up look at him, she could see that the resemblance to his actor in the movies was striking, though there were a few differences. His eyes for one thing were a storm cloud grey rather than blue, and his white-blonde hair wasn't slicked back, instead kept fairly short with his fringe swept to the side.

Altogether, she had to admit he had an attractive appearance, or he would when he grew up. He was more on the cute side at the moment, due to his age. It was a shame, if he were anyone else she might have been interested, as it were though she'd rather sleep with Longbottom than touch him.

"Crabbe, Goyle, look at this." Holding up his hand, she saw he was holding a glass orb filled with white smoke. "It's a Remembrall!" He said, a gleeful undertone colouring his voice. "Do you think he'll remember he lost it?"

Crabbe and Goyle both laughed, their voices deeper than she would have expected from a child. Both of them were the exact opposite of Malfoy, with dark cropped hair, bodies already beginning to turn fat, and flat, unattractive faces.

Harry stepped forward, meeting Malfoy's eyes firmly. "Give it here, Malfoy."

Malfoy scowled at him, gripping the Remembrall tightly. "Fighting Longbottoms battles for him now, Potter? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, he's too stupid to do it himself" he said, lifting up the Remembrall, still billowing with white smoke inside the thin glass. "Do you know what this is, Potter? These are used to help _toddlers_ remember things. Even his family must think he's a moron."

"I said give it here, Malfoy" Harry said with a steely tone, stepping closer to Malfoy such that there was only able arms length between them, his hand reaching into his robe pocket, presumably for his wand. Though what he expected to do with it was another matter.

Scowling, Malfoy's eyes flicked between Harry and the people around him. With a smirk, he dropped the orb at his feet. "Then come and get it if you want it so badly, Potter."

Without hesitating, Harry kneeled down to pick it up, straightening back up and turning from Malfoy without a glance in his direction, walking back over to Ron.

Malfoy sneered at him. "Come on Crabbe, Goyle. It's a waste of time sticking around here. That woman doesn't know what she's talking about anyway."

And off the three went, with the rest of the Slytherin boys and two Slytherin girls following him like lost puppies.

Morgan guessed that Harry probably wouldn't be becoming the Gryffindor seeker, at least not this year, but that wasn't very important anyway.

Far more important was this. Tapping Susan on the shoulder, she leant close so no-one else could overhear. "See, Miss Bones. They clearly want each other. His face was practically in his-"

Susan jerked her head away, putting her hands on her ears and walking away from Morgan. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! I'm not listening to you! Lalalalala!" She cried.

But Morgan saw the forlorn look on her face before she could do so, causing her lips to stretch into a vindictive smile.

Teach her to spend all night spewing about how dreamy she thought Harry was. Teach Harry for having fangirls. Hmph.

A poke at her shoulder caused her to refocus on Su, floating at eye level with her. "You should ride it."

"But, come now, just look at it" she moaned, gesturing at the sorry excuse for a broom in her hand. "It'll either break down or rub me raw. I think I'd rather just take the detention."

"That's your own fault for wearing such a short skirt and slutty knickers" Su said, voice scathing.

Morgan just scowled at her, lips crumpling sourly.

Su sighed, frowning at her with her brows creasing cutely as they looked at each other.

"I thought you'd want to ride one."

"Really?"

Shrugging at her, Su wrapped her arm around Morgan's shoulder, pulling her close to her own mouth and murmuring into her ear. "You could ride a broom at midnight when there's a full moon, laughing and carrying some kid to a giant boiling cauldron somewhere."

The idea hit like a sledgehammer. Morgan felt her heart beat a little harder at the vision, breath catching as her imagination conjured powerful images. "That, well, that's a little cliché, no?" Like something out of a child's bedtime story, where a witch would swoop down on naughty children, cackling and carrying them away in a giant bag to be cooked or made into a potion. She remembered scaring her little sister with a story like that, when she was refusing to go to sleep at her bed time.

She loved the idea.

Morgan bit her lip, flicking her eyes between the broom in her hand and Su's eyes.

Well, honestly, she couldn't actually kidnap some child to drop in a bubbling cauldron. Well she could, but she shouldn't, it would be fairly horrible even for her. Though some kids could definitely do with a little light boiling...

"What's the point in being a witch if you don't?" Su whispered.

Groaning, she straddled the broom, lifting off slightly into the air.

* * *

Morgan was standing in a dark hidden corridor, fingers trailing across the tapestry in front of her. Golden light penetrated from the other side, the many candles placed around the room beyond offering a dim light.

Anyone in that room would merely see an ordinary tapestry, no different from any other that covered the castle walls.

In the room beyond was one Nymphadora Tonks, apparently one of the only metamorphmagus' in the world. Currently she was tall - at least five-foot-ten - with an incredible hourglass figure that could make any girl envious, wearing trousers with a camouflage design over heavy black boots and her torso covered by a light green vest with a large cleavage, showing off her amazing chest.

But her face, now _that_ was where her shapeshifting abilities were truly showing themselves. She was beautiful, a handsome face with plump, cherry-red lips that had a glossy, wet look, currently twisted in a grimace. Sky blue eyes were framed by bright pink hair, falling in messy locks down her face to her shoulders that looked as if it had been done by a professional stylist. Every now and again it changed colours, flitting between them briefly before returning to pink.

She could feel herself flushing a little, watching her.

Holding a black wand, Tonks uttered an incantation, unheard through the tapestry that felt like stone beneath Morgan's fingers. White light gathered at the tip of her wand, flickering ribbons of light flying away randomly for a few feet before fading.

But whatever she was trying, she didn't manage it. Her wand-tip dimmed slowly, the light stuttering a little then disappearing forever, despite the heavy concentration her face was displaying.

With a sigh, Tonks lifted her wand, firing off spells at the wall with her brow creased in frustration.

Well, this was about what she had expected. Tonks had a rather simple schedule. According to the map, when not in classes she was spending her free time either fucking or alone in some empty room in the castle.

Putting away the map in her skirt pocket, Morgan brushed her fingers against the tapestry, tapping it in a pattern described by the map.

At the final tap her finger ghosted through slightly, giving a cold sensation.

Nymphadora Tonks, one of her more urgent targets. She had some ideas regarding how to… recruit her, but there were simply so many unknowns that she wasn't sure whether any of them would progress beyond mere ideas. Worst case scenario, she gained a friendly relation with a future Auror.

Stepping forward she entered the room, a cold rush washing over her as she passed through.

She smiled sharply. "Hello, Miss Tonks" she purred.

She didn't expect a red light to slam her into the wall and knock her unconscious.

* * *

"Aw, come on, I said I was sorry. You startled me. Come on, please forgive me."

Morgan wasn't sulking. She wasn't. She was merely lamenting her ruined entrance. It was supposed to be dramatic, the introduction between herself and Tonks, she'd had the scene pictured in her mind.

It wasn't supposed to be turned into cheap comedy by some… some _philistine_.

Her head hurt. She rubbed where she could feel a bump forming through her hair, glaring at the prostrate girl before her, Tonks' face planted on the floor in an exaggerated bow.

With Morgan's heel grinding down on the back of her perfect pink hair.

"All I did was say hello. A perfectly sincere, innocent greeting. Yet you slammed me into a wall like a common villain. I wonder, is that how they do things where you come from? Slamming little eleven year-old girls into walls?"

"You did kind of… walk out of a wall, you know."

"Not the point." Hesitating, Morgan's eyes dragged over Tonks' body. Those _hips_ … Shaking it off, she gave a final grind of her heel then lifted up her foot.

Tonks popped back up onto her feet, rubbing the back of her head with a sheepish smile. "So... did you have a reason for just, you know…" she gestured at the wall Morgan had walked out of.

"I was merely curious. Pretty much every night you're out in an empty classroom till early morning" Morgan said, shrugging.

Tonks boggled at her. "Wait, how'd you know that? Could've sworn no-one followed me…"

Morgan didn't answer, instead very pointedly rubbing her head, causing Tonks to wince.

"Alright, alright, I get it. Jeez, I said I was sorry…"

"Come now, you don't think an apology is enough do you?" Receiving a questioning look, Morgan continued. "I want to watch. Your training that is."

Tonks shook her head, sighing. "Look, I'm sorry, but I can't do that. I really don't need any distractions, and things can get dangerous around me when practicing. I don't have time to babysit some little squirt."

Morgan's eyes narrowed, lips pressing together annoyingly.

This was going to happen, such a shame Tonks was going to make things difficult.

"Look, it's getting late, so I'm heading to bed. Please don't do this again, It'll just make me kick you out, then I'd feel bad."

Watching her leave, Morgan could hardly take her eyes off her perfect bubble butt. It was like every part of her screamed sex; a walking, talking wet dream. It was no wonder she was so popular with boys.

She wanted her. Badly. Just shapeshifting would have gotten her attention. She could become the world's highest paid whore, if she wanted… Or was forced. That body was worth a mountain of gold.

Combined with her future as an Auror - the main reason she was interested - and she was nearly irresistible.

But what pushed her into taking her riskiest plan was just how badly she wanted to fuck her. Given how obviously straight she was, just being friends wouldn't help her there.

It was dangerous, but oh well. She wouldn't get anywhere if she didn't take risks.

* * *

Just wanted to say thanks for reviewing the story, I'm glad you like it, but any guests should probably create an account if they want any questions answered.


	19. Chapter 19

Nymphadora. It was an… apt name, for a girl that tried her best to live up to it.

Looking at the map in her hand, she saw the footprints indicating Tonks' location, as well as those of the boy she was with. The way those footprints were positioned, well, that told you all you needed to know.

The last couple weeks - despite Tonks changing her location every time - had led to Morgan finding her and trying to intrude on her training, only to be shut out constantly. She was getting rather tired of being thrown out of the room with nothing but a flick of a wand.

Not even an attempt at conversation anymore, just point and throw.

Really, she'd tried to do this the easy way, she'd given multiple opportunities in fact. But she seemed determined to make this difficult, so Morgan would have to interrupt her _other_ regular activity.

That is, being a massive slut. When not training Tonks could be reliably found with a boy - and rarely the same one. Since she'd gotten the map Tonks must have gone through over half a dozen of them.

Oh, she certainly approved. If she could shapeshift she'd be doing the same thing, just with more girls involved. But that _did_ leave an opening she would ruthlessly exploit.

She was standing in a small, cramped hallway, just behind a section of rotating wall. On the other side of it would be a marble statue of a mermaid, one of many that would be circling the prefects bathroom. This was one of her favourite hidden paths actually. It _would_ be her favourite, if there weren't so many prefects. Twenty-four in total, all wanting to use the same luxurious bath. She could hardly sneak in a quick wash except at extremely late times like this, when it would be more accurate to call it early morning than night and the risk was low.

Unless you happened to have an eleven year-old stalker who had been able to find you anywhere in the castle no matter how hard you tried to hide. Tonks was clearly underestimating her determination, such a shame. Did she think she wouldn't intrude, that she'd be too shy perhaps?

" _Thermae_ " she said. With barely a sound the wall slowly spun around, taking her with it and into the bathroom.

In the centre of the room was a circular bath, surrounding a central fountain made of two mermaids carved from marble, twisted around one another and spewing water and bubbles from their mouths into the water below. Up above, opposite the main entrance, was a stained glass window casting the room in a dim blue light, depicting a mermaid lounging on a rock, currently blushing and fanning her face fiercely.

Morgan bit her lip as she gazed to where Tonks was, bent over the edge of the bath to the right of her, facing the main entrance while a boy - a fifth year ravenclaw prefect - fucked her from behind, moans echoing around the room.

That… Well, that just wasn't fair. Though she supposed she _was_ the one intruding, but still. Here she was trapped and frustrated in this prepubescent body having not had sex in weeks, while this metamorphmagus just had to look at a boy and flick her eyes at a broom cupboard to get laid.

Oh, she would enjoy this.

Seeing that those two hadn't noticed her, she decided to wait a little. It was important to do these things properly, after all. Had to wait for the right… moment.

And she just wanted to watch a little. Tonks was hot and the boy was relatively cute, with short black hair and a decent body, though fairly short. This was better entertainment than she'd seen in years.

Flushing, she sat cross-legged on the cool marble floor, watching everything. Her hand was playing with the hemline of her red nightie, twisting it between her fingers. She really wanted to, it would be so easy... but she couldn't. Grimacing, she slowly pulled her hand away from her thighs. She just didn't have time, nor was she able to keep particularly quiet even if she did.

She took it back. She didn't want to watch at all if the only reward was even more frustration.

Finally - and thank Heaven for that - she heard what she was waiting for.

"Fuck, fuck, yes, oh fuck, _oh fuck I'm so close, fuck me fuck me fuck yes don't stop fuck I'm gonna cum-"_ Tonks moaned.

With a vindictive smile, Morgan stood, walking with soft footsteps as close as she dared.

Then, gently, she said "Hello, Miss Tonks."

Tonks' body froze up, her head whipping around to look at her with a look of horror almost as good as what she'd previously looked like.

Such a reaction seemed too much for the boy, Tonks' sudden tightness finishing him off.

"What- how- when" Tonks stuttered, before jerking and turning her head at the boy. "Don't- don't you dare, wait, stop, don't you fucking... bugger" she said as the boy let out a loud groan, slamming hard, freezing for a few seconds before pulling out.

Poor girl. Few things were worse than being left right on the edge like this.

She had better get used to it. Until she gave up, Morgan would ensure the only satisfaction Tonks gained would be from her own hand.

"That was great" he sighed, looking up from Tonks' ass. He froze as he met Morgan's eyes. "What the fuck!" He cried, splashing back into the water and using the bubbles to hide his body. "How the hell did you get in here!?"

Morgan shrugged, smiling slyly. "Who knows? I was just curious about all the noise and somehow ended up in here."

"Well get out!"

"Leave? But that would be such a shame. This bath looks lovely, and I have so many questions for Miss Tonks here about what you were doing."

He glared at her, face bright red from embarrassment. Morgan almost sighed. It was just sex, yet he was acting like a schoolgirl getting caught by her parents.

"If you don't leave, I'll have you in detention for-"

"Such as why you were having sex with someone not your girlfriend." He immediately shut up, gaping at her with a slowly encroaching look of fear in his eyes. Putting on her most innocent face, Morgan said "I wonder, does she know? I'm guessing not. I wonder what her reaction would be when she learns you cheated on her with _the school bike._ " Ah, right. Wizards. "That is, cheated on her with _the_ _school broomstick_."

He blinked at her, trying and failing to say something as she watched with amusement.

Tonks just had to ruin her fun.

"Get out of here Thomas. I'll deal with the little bugger" Tonks groaned, pulling herself up from her position bent over the side of the bath, her face twisted with frustration.

Not that she looked at her face for very long, given what she'd just revealed. She'd never seen a girls body that was just so… perfect. It was all she could do to ogle without drooling. Not even Maria, a literal sexual predator, could match her.

She was vaguely aware of the boy hurriedly climbing out of the bath and gathering his clothes before scurrying out of the room. Though she felt she couldn't be blamed as she watched Tonks pull herself out of the bath, her body glistening with water.

"My eyes are up here." Morgan slowly looked up, meeting sky blue eyes that were glaring at her. In Tonks' hand was a wand spitting out pink sparks, though when she'd picked that up she had no idea. "School broomstick, am I?" With a violent prod, Tonks jammed her wand into Morgan's chest, a pink spark singing her nightie. "Any last words, you little pervert?"

Last words? Well, she supposed she did have something to say that felt appropriate for this little scene. "I regret nothing."

No matter what came next, she definitely felt it was worth it.

Even when Tonks hit her with enough stinging hexes that she was left feeling as though she'd been attacked by a bee hive for a few hours.

And thus began Tonks' fruitless search for a location Morgan couldn't find or enter, and Morgans fun chasing after and interrupting her whenever she could.

* * *

Hermione Granger

The library was mostly silent with only a couple low voices murmuring a few aisles over, quieter than the scratching of the girl's quill opposite her, still ignoring her as she had been since they had begun.

Hermione breathed in deeply, frustrated. The dry smell of parchment soothed her a little, helping her enjoy the warmth of the room. They were sat at a small table just big enough for the two of them to sit opposite each other, the table between them messy with strewn parchment and books.

"Excuse me, don't you think we should be working together? I mean, that _is_ what the Professor told us to do" she said, frowning. This work was supposed to be completed in _pairs,_ that was what Professor Snape said. Doing it on your own wasn't what the Professor wanted.

Su looked up at her, something in those dark eyes irking her, looking at her as though seeing her for the first time before promptly dismissing her and going back to her own work. "I can do it on my own" she muttered.

"Well, I really don't think that's allowed. We should be working together on this, not just going off on our own."

A shrug was the only reply she got, much to her frustration. What if the Professor found out? Then they'd both get a zero for the work. And what if she'd gotten everything wrong, causing the Professor to think it was _her_ fault?

She twirled her bushy hair between her fingers, nervous at the thought. Professor Snape was not someone she wanted to disappoint with poor work.

"Then you should at least show me the work. If you're planning to hand this in with my name on as well, then I should get the chance to look it over and make sure there aren't any mistakes."

That got her an annoyed look before it was back to being ignored. Hermione grit her teeth, wanting to tear her hair out. So she decided, if Su wouldn't show her the parchment, then she'd just have to look on her own. It was better than handing in homework filled with mistakes.

Reaching across the small table, she grabbed the sheet and slid it in front of herself.

Su stared at the table in front of her for a moment, before looking up and meeting her eyes. "Give it back" she quietly demanded.

She ignored her. "Once I've looked it over and corrected any mistakes." She quickly read through the writing, checking each answer. She paused for a moment however, examining not what was written, but _how_ it was written. _It's so neat_ , she thought, watching how every letter flowed into the next, elegant when compared to her own blocky, unjoined hand-writing.

Suppressing the pang of envy, she found what she suspected. "See? This is wrong. You've put six grams, when the answer is six thousand grams." She looked up at Su, feeling slightly smug. "Now, I think it's much better if we work together, like Professor Snape said. That way we can both check each other's answers and prevent any mistakes."

The other girl just looked at her, staring at her long enough to make her feel uneasy at the sheer _blankness_ within those strangely shaped eyes. "You're an idiot" she finally said, reaching across the table and snatching back the parchment.

"Well that isn't a very nice thing to say. I'm only only trying to help, _and_ follow the Professors orders" she said pointedly, feeling a little stung. "If you don't let me help, then I'll go tell Professor Snape that you're not doing the assignment like he asked."

And once again she was ignored. It was like she didn't _understand._ Professor Snape would be teaching them for the next seven years, did she want his first impression to be that they were stupid? Or that they couldn't follow simple orders?

Well then, fine. She would just go tell the Professor what was happening and let him deal with her. Su might not care, but she certainly did, and she wasn't going to be dragged down with her. Then she would hand in her _own_ version, so he knew she was perfectly capable of completing the work up to his standards.

As she was about to stand and march off to the Professor, Su suddenly jerked her head, startling her. She was looking towards the direction of the library entrance, behind and to the right of herself, hidden by tall bookshelves. Then she suddenly burst into a flurry of activity. The table was tidied, neat piles of parchment and books stacked to her left. Su's uniform was tidied up, her shirt - previously peeking out from beneath her black jumper - was now tucked in and hidden from sight, her top button done up and tie pulled tight.

The reason for that suddenly became clear as a voice spoke up behind her.

"Ah, Su, there you are" came Morgan's voice from behind her.

She frowned, suddenly feeling… Well, she didn't know how she felt, actually. Morgan was arrogant, rude, showed _utter_ disrespect to Professor McGonagall and seemed to surpass herself in any class that required casting magic with frustrating ease.

But she also helped whenever Hermione was struggling, even if she did it in a condescending manner. There weren't many that had shown her such kindness before.

Whatever her feelings, she was at least glad they were in different houses. At least she didn't have to worry about her losing them house points when her bad attitude caught up with her.

"Morgan" Su said with a smile. The change in attitude was stunning. Where Hermione was barely acknowledged, Morgan was greeted with a smile and eyes filled with joy.

"And Miss Granger?" she said as she walked up to their table, eyebrow raising slightly as their eyes met. "I'm hurt Su, have you already replaced me?" she asked, pouting.

Su shrugged. "I would, but she doesn't have as much money as you."

Morgan's hand rested above her heart, eyes widening dramatically as she gasped. "Is that all I am to you? A walking purse?"

"Mhmm, who else will buy me ice cream?"

"All my hard work, and this is the thanks I get" she said, voice downcast. Reaching across, she wrapped her arm around Su's head, pulling her into her side and rubbing her head with a fist. "Time for some punishment." Not that Su seemed to mind, given her smile.

Watching all this, Hermione couldn't help but feel… lonely. She twisted the edge of her skirt as she watched Morgan give Su a nuggie with a fond smile.

It… It hurt. To see them so friendly with each other while she was alone, like always. She tried making friends, she _tried._ But… It just never seemed to work. Her teeth clenched as she remembered the things she'd overheard Lavender and Parvati saying last night, thinking her asleep.

She and Morgan were both muggleborn orphans, both of them were much more intelligent than their peers, and they _must_ have had similar upbringings, but why was it that only _she_ was alone?

Looking Morgan over, she noted that, as always, Morgan wouldn't look out of place amongst the rich purebloods. With glossy black hair that fell down her left shoulder, framing a pretty face with sharp eyes, as well as a uniform that looked new and immaculate - even if her skirt was _much_ shorter than regulations allowed. It really didn't make her feel very good when she compared herself to Morgan.

They separated, Morgan looking around briefly before Su stood up, jumping out of her chair. "Oh? Well, if you're offering…" Morgan sat in the chair across from Hermione. "I'm sure there's another chair around here some-" she began, only to be cut off as Su plopped into her lap, leaning back against her. "I'm beginning to think I have personal space only when you allow me" she mused, hugging Su around the waist and rolling her eyes, resting her head upon her shoulder.

Su merely hummed in response with her eyes lazily shut, entwining her hand with Morgan's.

Hermione watched them, confused... She might not have ever had any friends, but even she could see that these two were very strange. They always seemed… close to one another. Too close. They were practically glued to each other at meal times.

"So what are you working on?"

"Potions homework."

"Oh?" She grabbed the sheet with her free hand, looking it over. "I think this is better than mine. You like potions?" she asked, only to receive a hum in reply.

"She's doing it wrong" Hermione blurted.

Su was glaring at her now, but she didn't care. Maybe Morgan could make her see some sense.

"Really?"

"Look, she's answered this question wrong. The correct answer should be six thousand grams, not six."

Morgan just blinked at her. "Are you… quite sure of that, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded furiously. " _And_ she refuses to let me help, even though Professor Snape said we had to work together on this."

"She's an idiot."

"Su, be nice. She not an idiot, she's just… wrong. It's an easy mistake."

 _I am not wrong_ she thought, insulted. The calculations were in front of her, she knew she'd done them right. The insinuation that she was the one that was wrong got her back ramrod straight and lips pressing stubbornly together.

Morgan cast her strangely orange eyes on her, meeting her own defiant gaze. "Tell me Miss Granger, where did you learn… well, all of this. You grew up in an orphanage, no? I know they don't give out lessons to us poor orphans."

"I taught myself" she said, unable to keep the pride out of her voice. She had worked hard to ensure she wouldn't be behind anyone else, from pouring over the few books she had managed to get a hold of, to carefully teaching herself to write with the quill and ink Mrs Jones had gotten her for her birthday.

"You taught yourself? Reading, writing, mathematics?" asked Morgan, looking her over with a strange gleam to her eye. "Brilliant" Morgan breathed, eyes shining. In her lap, Su jerked strangely, wide eyes flicking back and forth between Morgan and herself. "A child, teaching themselves reading and writing and mathematics? Truly, Miss Granger, you are incredible."

Her breath jumped a little. That… that really did mean a lot. She _was_ smart, she knew she was, but…

She felt like that might have been the first time anyone had ever praised her for it, had ever really even noticed. None of the orphanage workers ever really cared, no matter how hard she tried. The other kids...

She- she wasn't making it up, she _did_ teach herself, she _was_ smart, smart enough to get into Hogwarts, to be near the top of the year even.

But it was only when someone else said it that she really believed it to be true.

"Thank you" she said quietly, rubbing at her wet feeling eyes with the back of her sleeve. Pulling her arm back down, she blinked as she met Su's eyes, glaring at her with more hate than she had ever seen before. What on _earth_ had she done to deserve that?

"Well, Miss Granger, you'll be unhappy to know that dear Su here is correct" said Morgan. Picking up a quill, she quickly wrote something down before handing over the parchment. "Why don't you take a look?"

Frowning, she picked up the parchment. There was no way she was _actually_ wrong.

But then her heart dropped. Such a stupid mistake. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered how convinced she had been that she was right.

And underneath the embarrassment was hurt. All that effort, yet she still made such an obvious mistake.

Morgan was watching her with a speculative look in her eyes, seeming to come to a decision. "Tell me, Miss Granger, would you like me to tea-" she was cut-off as Su shrugged the shoulder Morgan was leaning on. She could hear the clack of teeth clashing together as Morgan flinched back, squeezing and clutching her mouth. "Why…" she whined.

Su's hands moved in a flash, grabbing a book and quickly tearing out a page while Morgan was distracted.

Damaging Hogwarts property. She wanted to say something, but the sheer poison in Su's dark brown eyes stopped her.

"I think I bit my tongue." Morgan touched her tongue with a finger, pulling it away with a faint red smear upon it.

"You'll be fine."

"You _made_ me bite my tongue."

"Your breath was making my ear itch."

Morgan scowled at her resentfully, rubbing her lips. "Anyway, Miss Granger, as I was say-"

"Who dares to damage my books?!" came a shrill screech. Madam Pince stormed up next to their table, glaring at all of them.

Hermione froze. She had _absolutely_ nothing to do with this! She wasn't about to be thrown out of the library because someone was stupid enough to damage Hogwarts property!

But before she could tell the truth, Madam Pince's eyes zeroed in on Morgan. " _You"_ she hissed. "I should have known. Twenty points from Hufflepuff for damaging a library book."

Confusion flashed on Morgan's face for a moment before being replaced with a disdainful sneer. "Ah, Madam Pince, just the woman I was looking for. Here you go" she said, passing a piece of paper over.

Madam Pince quickly read the paper with a glare. "This is…"

"My permission to send books out of the castle. What was it that you said? That the headmaster would never allow me?" She shook her head, grinning viciously. "I'm sure you'll be glad to know that the headmaster had absolutely no problem with allowing it. But you don't need to worry. The owls here in Hogwarts are surely well trained. I bet even the weakest of them will have no trouble carrying a heavy set of books through... unpleasant weather."

"You- you horrible child" she growled, and Hermione could only attempt to sink into her chair in horror, hoping to go unnoticed. "We'll see about this. Albus will surely change his mind when I see him."

"Oh?" She quietly said, hugging Su to her and rubbing a hand through her black hair. "But I do hope you can contain yourself. His room has a lot of… untouched, innocent books. Wouldn't want you getting excited. In fact…"

Reaching over she pulled out a slim book from the shelf next to the table, looking it over quickly before presenting it to Madam Pince. "Here you go. The spine is nice and ribbed, I'm almost jealous. Why don't you go satisfy yourself with that, before you embarrass yourself in front of the headmaster."

The paper disappeared into Madam Pinces suddenly clenched fist, her face red and glowering with such a towering rage that she almost expected her to pull out her wand and start cursing.

But before she could thoroughly curse them all out of Hogwarts, Morgan let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "I'm sorry, you have my apologies. I truly don't know what I was saying. After all…" her eyes flashed with mischief, "you're only going to embarrass yourself anyway with your futile begging. I almost wish I could see it."

That seemed to be too much. Her hand snapped out, grabbing Morgan by the ear and dragging her up from the chair, Su quickly jumping from her lap. "In all my years… I can't believe… We'll see what your head of house has to say about this."

Morgan gave a quick smile and wave to Su before she was pulled away and out of sight.

She breathed in relief. This was _exactly_ why she was glad Morgan was in a different house. While their conversation might have left her liking Morgan more than not, saying such things to a member of staff was absolutely unacceptable. She'd be lucky not to be expelled for that.

She noticed Su stand next to her. Turning to look, she had a brief moment where she saw the fierce scowl on her face, before Su's hand struck her with a resounding slap.

 _What just happened?_ The stinging in her face made it hard to think, made it hard to focus on anything but the pain before Su's hand slapped her other cheek. It was just too sudden for her to respond. The only thing she could do was reflexively bring her hands up to cover her face and flinch away.

"Ow! Stop! I'm going to-" but she was forced to stop as Su grabbed her by her hair, pulling her out of her chair and throwing her onto the ground, straddling her and pinning her hands above her head with one hand while grabbing her mouth with the other.

All Hermione could do was cry. Her cheeks were burning, her head hurt and above it all was Su's face, looking at her from a mere few inches away.

"Quiet" she said. And her eyes were terrifying, so much so that Hermione froze, a cold shiver working its way down her spine.

"Don't get close to Morgan. Understand?"

Hermione could only blink away her tears in surprise. She didn't have a clue what she was talking about, she hadn't even been getting close to Morgan! They'd just had a conversation!

Su removed her hand from her throat, but before she could say anything the hand grabbed her throat, squeezing just enough to make breathing difficult.

"Understand?" And this time her voice was almost a growl, her face so close to her own that she could feel her breath on her lips

She frantically nodded her head, taking a relieved breath as Su let her go. Su quickly grabbed up her things, casting her a frightful scowl as she left.

Her hands didn't stop shaking for the rest of the day.


End file.
